Campaign - The 103rd Annual Hunger Games (SYOT)
by Declan42
Summary: In the wake of President Coriolanus Snow's sudden death, an election is held, there must be a new president! Meanwhile, 24 new tributes must enter the arena for a brutal pageant, The Hunger Games. Only one can come out alive, who will it be? (SYOT CLOSED, but you should still read along anyway)
1. The King is Dead, Long Live the King!

**Hi everyone! My name is Declan and I'm looking forward to writing an epic Hunger Games 'Submit Your Own Tribute' (SYOT). It will be based around the 103rd Annual Hunger Games and the political election being held in the wake of President Coriolanus Snow's death. If you wish to submit a tribute to this game please PM it to me, I will not accept submissions from reviews, sorry guests. The Submission form is on my profile. Most tributes will be accepted and I will try to bring your characters to justice! If you have any questions just PM me. Here we go!**

* * *

 _ **Augustus Snow – Temporary President of Panem**_

* * *

I stand there, looking over my dead father's opaque corpse. His white beard and hair slicked down and a white rose clenched between his dead hands. He smells of blood, like always, but now there is a scent of rotting mingling among it. It isn't pleasant.

You're probably wondering who I am. My name is Augustus Theodore Snow, the bastard son of our 'glorious' leader. I am currently president of this great nation, but I know it won't last, the elections are soon and many people lust for the grandeur of presidency. And I'm not a public favourite.

"Good day Uncle, such a shame about pops, isn't it?" My 'lovely' niece just entered the church, her pretty brown hair cascading down her shoulders. She used to wear it in the Katniss Everdeen patented plait, my father put an end to that. I can tell by her tone of voice she thinks it was me, Coriolanus loved her like no one else, even me, his only remaining son.

"Certainly is Celestia, have you said your final goodbyes?" I say. I can see in her eyes she wishes to pull me aside and throttle me, that won't happen of course it does no good do publicly destroy our family reputation. Our every move is televised.

"Not yet Uncle, meet me afterwards, we must talk about your political campaign. Ruling the country is a family business after all," Celestia says with a smirk. This little lady will get in so much trouble one day.

I wasn't originally planning on running for election but Celestia is right. We can't hand the country over to some foolish buffoon. I head over to one of the seats, next to Freya – a courtesan that frequented my father's apartments, for a hefty a sum – and begin a mind-numbing conversation, while watching my little niece.

She stands next to his remains and says a silent prayer, I swear I see a ghost of a smile cross her lips. She leans down and plants a kiss on his forehead, whispers something in his dead ear. Stands up straight like a soldier. Well… that was weird.

"Such a great man wasn't he. Always treated me with respect, never tried any funny business, like today's youth (Damn Capitolite boys these days), I'm sad he is gone" Freya says, failing to get my attention. I'm not quite sure what she wants.

"Just remember for the right dollar my legs are always open," she whispers, winking at me. Oh. My. God. What just happened?

"No, I'm fine thanks…" I say and abruptly leave. What a crazed old lady.

I walk down the corridor, out of the chapel that holds the president's dead body. I patiently wait by the door, Celestia should be finished soon.

"Hullo Augustus, how are you faring, such a terrible loss, to the whole country," Damn, it's Veeto, I was hoping to avoid this confrontation.

Veeto has been my father's assistant for five years now, an impressive time, they normally don't last very long. I'm sure my father would have voted Veeto as his successor shame he is dead. Ha-ha. It wasn't me if you're wondering. I'm no murderer.

"Yes, it is. Planning on running for president, eh, Veeto?" I say. The quicker we get this done, the better I'll feel.

"Most certainly! Nothing to be afraid of though Augustus, you're the public favourite!" He replies. It's all bullshit though, there have been five attempts on my life… that I know of. Veeto has this election in a bag. Well, not if Celestia has anything to do with it, she is used to getting what she wants.

"I don't blame you for what you did by the way. It was time for a new president." Veeto whispers, patting me on the shoulder before going inside the church to say his final goodbyes. See! Even he blames me for my father's death. I'm a murderer and I don't even know it.

After a minute or two, my wonderful niece honours with her presence. She spots me and walks over. She puts a hand on each of my shoulders and starts talking. "Now to business. You want to win this thing or not?" I shake my head. She frowns… Here we go!

* * *

 _ **Emanuel Selwood – Victor of the 76** **th** **Hunger Games**_

* * *

My life was a shit heap. Drugs, Alcohol, Domestic violence. I failed repeatedly to get on top of things, clearly I was destined to keep in this bad excuse of a life.

Every morning I would wake up, take a needle of morphling and visit the pub. Get home, get bashed by my wife and cry for the rest of the day. Every year I would have to send two of the citizens of District 5 into an arena - with shit all help mind you - and watch them get slaughtered by big boys with big toys.

I only won my games because of sheer determination. And a bit of luck. The arena was flooded in the final 5 I stayed afloat the longest… barely.

I believed my life was beyond restoration.

And then I got the good news.

The man who killed my family was dead, finally. And there was an important position vacant in the Capitol.

I was given a second chance, Maybe this was my destiny? I could end the brutal pageant known as the Hunger Games once and for all. No more dying tributes. No more cruel Gamemakers… Safety. All I had to do was take up presidency. Easy right?

* * *

 **Who did you like better? Augustus or Veeto or Emanuel?**

 **What are your thoughts on Celestia?**

 **Did you like it?**

 **Please Drop a Review** **J**

 **Again, if you wish to submit a tribute the form is on my profile!**

 **So! Here is the sponsorship program:**

 **There are multiple ways of receiving points! Each tribute you submit earns you 3 points. If you leave a review, depending on its length and depth, 1-3 points. Favourite/Follow the fanfiction or the author (me) earns you 2 points.**

 **You can spend your points or sponsor items:**

 **1 Point – Small Food item of sponsor's choice**

 **2 Points – Small Drink**

 **3 Points – Medium Food item of sponsor's choice**

 **4 Points – Larger Meal**

 **5 Points – Basic Medicines, Painkillers, Iodine or Matches**

 **6 Points – Small Weapon**

 **7 Points – Massive Meal**

 **8 Points – Complex or Expensive Medicine**

 **9 Points – First Aid Kit and Full meal for 2**

 **10 Points – Any Weapon of your choice**

 **If you want to give your tribute something I haven't listed, just PM me. Prices are open to negotiation.**

 **If you want to send anything to any tribute at any time, PM me immediately.**

 **AND MAY THE ODDS BE EVER IN YOUR FAVOUR!**

* * *

 _ **Update:** Please note that the Sponsorship program has been officially cancelled as of the 19.08.16 because of a six against two vote against it. I apologise for any inconvenience this has caused..._


	2. Alea iacta est

**Hi guy's this is the newest chapter in Campaign! I'm very excited to begin, the first reaping chapter should be up sometime next week. So with the sponsor points I am keeping a record of who has how much, don't worry about that. Yes, Solarrus is intended to come across as a bit of a himbo (he bimbo). I'm going to publish the official tribute list at the end of this chapter, so make sure you read the ending authors note. Thanks jacob1106 for your formatting advice, it is super helpful. Here it is chapter 2, hope I didn't disappoint!**

* * *

 _ **Solarrus Titan – Presidential Candidate**_

* * *

I leave the room as quick as I can, that was not the kind of deal I had expected. Who knew how hard it was to take over presidency? Maybe this is more than I bargained for. If it was only Augustus it would be like taking candy from a toddler, but Coriolanus's granddaughter is a force to be reckoned with, I better watch out for her. She is just like her grandpa.

"What, you're just going to leave! Do you know how hard it was to get into this god damn building? Clearly not! You politicians are all the same!" Hollers a voice from the room. That man has no right to talk to me like that! I'm the future president of this grand nation. Oh, well I better leave it, I have a rally to attend. The people need me!

I open the elevator and hop inside, what was that man thinking anyway? I wanted to get Augustus out of the election not assassinate him! When people advertise liquidation, they surely mean to get rid of, not KILL. I wanted to liquidate his political campaign, not his person!

"Umm… Are you okay sir?" says a voice behind me. I only then realise I've been facing the corner of the elevator. Damnit, this man must think so little of me, better put him in his place!

"HOW DARE YOU ADRESS ME LIKE THAT! If I wasn't okay do you think I would be standing here? Here I was minding my own business and you… NOBODY! Comes along and interrupts my thoughts!" I bellow at him. He looks shocked but he had to know it was coming, he needs to learn to respect his superiors.

"Oh, I'm terribly sorry, I didn't intend to offend you, I'm new here you see, my name is Emanuel Selwood, nice to meet you." Says the man proffering his hand. The Ego this man has, getting yelled at by me and creating some… dumb remark. I grunt at him and turn away, refusing the hand shake.

The elevator comes to a halt and the doors slide open. This 'Emanuel' guy gestures that I can leave first. Of course I can! As if I was going to wait for this man's permission.

I march out of the elevator and head towards the podium. The whole population of the Capitol are awaiting my presence. I have a speech to make.

I dash by my prep team and get my make-up touched up and my marvellous silver hair combed to the side. "You look splendid Solly, go out there and awe those people!" My assistant knows just how to pep me up before a speech.

I stride up onto the stage and smile dazzlingly to the crowd. They roar, they cheer, they love me!

* * *

 _ **Emanuel Selwood – Presidential Candidate**_

* * *

I played that man perfectly! These capitolites are really easy to manipulate. I've got him exactly where I want him.

I've only been in the Capitol for a week but already my case has been heard all throughout the place. Streets are lined with pictures of me and my famous motto 'Make Panem Great Again!' Which was unfortunately received by the Snow family as a personal jab to their name, oh well, they're all stuck up idiots.

This city is a place of wonder, skyscrapers everywhere, bright lights and glowing billboards. Growing up in outer districts, no one would know this kind of place could exist. I've been here before of course, being a mentor has its advantages. It's a shame they don't share it, the world would be a better place. That's why I'm here.

Solarrus Titan appears on the stage and somehow pulls off making a would-be extremely tedious speech into an amazingly interesting conversation. Well, don't say he isn't good for something. Apparently Solarrus was a film-maker before he decided to become president. I guess being well known gives you an advantage.

The speech ends and the crowd begins cheering, for some reason I find myself cheering along with them, what the hell. I look to my left and I see a small man with a camera, uh oh, paparazzi, cheering for other candidates successes can't be good for my campaign.

I quickly turn around and start marching out of the courtyard, towards the car I bought while I'm here. When I'm about halfway there a bunch of people with microphones and cameras block my path. Damnit, they've got me.

"Mr. Selwood why were you attending Solarrus's rally?" Far out.

"Emanuel is it true you've been planning on backing Solarrus all along?" What? No.

"Should people be afraid to trust in such a weak man?" Wow, that one's nice.

"Are you still planning on mentoring this year's tributes?" I hadn't put much thought into this, but the more attention the capitol gives me the better, right? If I bring them home, they'll be sure to support my presidency, that'd be a big advantage.

"Did you cheat to win your Hunger Games?" How on earth do you cheat in the hunger games?

"Mr. Selwood is it true you are sleeping with Celestia Snow?" What the actual hell? That lady is a bitch, I'd rather kill myself.

"Sorry guys here is my assistant's number if you want an interview, call him. I say scrawling out some random guy's number, I feel sorry for whoever owns this number, but paparazzi are damn annoying! I push past them, they continue to question me, asking dumb stuff but I manage to make it safely to my car.

There's a note on the dashboard. I pick it up and take off the sealing wax, ooh, it's official:

 _Dear Emanuel Selwood,_

 _You have been invited to this year's unveiling of the arena at the Gamemaker's hall. If you plan on mentoring District Five's tributes this year, you must not come._

 _Yours Sincerely, Head Gamemaker, Proteus Baron._

Oh, nice the head Gamemaker thinks I'm worth their time, how flattering. Knowing the arena would show how serious I am about becoming the next president, but mentoring the tributes is an advantage in itself as well. I've never thought of it like that, it's always been an annoying job that had to be done. And it is, preparing children for the imminent slaughter isn't something I should want to do…

What am I becoming?

* * *

 _ **Proteus Baron - Head Gamemaker**_

* * *

"Gamemakers, are you ready?" I ask, standing on the grand podium of head Gamemaker I have worked so hard to achieve. All the Gamemakers cheer and I look to Augustus for the signal.

He isn't officially president, he is just an interim arrangement during the election to make sure the country doesn't go to shit. He would never become president anyway, the public consider him a stain on Coriolanus's name, he isn't legitimate, and apparently his mother was some whore. Oh well, I'm not going to risk sticking my nose into these matters.

Augustus nods at me and smiles, I press a button on my complex computer and a picture appears on the huge monitor. The Gamemakers stare at it in awe and then realise the true power of this epic arena.

"Ladies and Gentleman, I present to you the arena for the 103rd Annual Hunger Games!" I holler out to the Gamemakers. They cheer in response. They must be proud to work under my glorious control.

I turn to the officials on my right, Augustus Snow, the standing president, Solarrus Titan, an upstart filmmaker who fancied leading Panem, Celestia Snow, the lovely lady of the Capitol, always nice, Dawn Angelica, the previous head Gamemaker with thinning hair, she is also running for president, she smiles at me, I've outdone even her standards. As well as the Vice President and last year's victor - Winchester Stocks from District 10 - who is my assistant head Gamemaker. Emanuel Selwood failed to show up, his loss. They stand in a circle, pondering my new idea.

It truly is amazing, a masterpiece if I do say so myself. One arena, split into twelve completely different sectors, this is sure to revolutionise the complexity of Gamemaking. It really is a work of art.

Celestia approaches me and proffers her hand. "Aaah Proteus, you've outdone yourself, I look forward to this games, pray you don't disappoint," she says. This lady has changed since the last time I met her. She isn't the innocent young girl I went to school with.

"Don't worry Celestia, this year's games will be one to remember," I reply, smiling. She nods and walks off. The rest come up afterwards and shake my hand, say a few kind words and leave. Once they have all gone, I turn to my workers. It's time to start.

"Okay guys! I have chosen this site, 200km north of district eight for the location of this year's games. I want it ready by the end of the month." I command my Gamemakers now that the officials have gone. This is my element, I have waited so long for this moment. Years of planning, manipulating, bribing and deception to get to this point, I will not let my efforts go to waste.

One of the Gamemakers, Ptolemy Fischer, who bought his way in, just like me. Sticks his hand up. "Sir where are the templates?" He asks, this dullard. They are where they always are. I'd be surprised if this guy even knew how to spell his name.

"In the Games folder. Like always, now, to work, I've got an important meeting to attend!" I reply, grasping my folder and switching off the huge monitor.

"Yes sir, sorry sir!" Haha, at least he knows his etiquette.

I head out of the palatial Gamemaker hall and stride towards the exit door. A hovercraft awaits me, prepared to take me to last year's arena, the sight of today's meeting.

If you were wondering, head Gamemaker isn't the peak of my ambition, one day I plan on becoming the leader of this grand nation and I need to be ready to bribe myself into a worthy position. Anyway, everyone has a side job. Selling illegal information on the arena, can't be the worst of them. I don't plan on running for this election. All the candidates are fools, it won't be anyone capable that arises from this and in a few years' time people will realise they need a better leader.

That's where I come in.

* * *

 **I tried to build on Emanuel's character a bit, considering he only had a small bit of attention last chapter. Did it work?**

 **Did you like Solarrus?**

 **What about Proteus?**

 **I hope this chapter was as good as the last one. Did I disappoint?**

 **Are my paragraphs too short?**

 **So here it is, the official tribute list for the 103** **rd** **Hunger Games!**

 **D1M -** _Love J. Harker, 14 (Kate-The-Great-And-Powerful)_

 **D1F -** _Jessalyn Armani, 18 (IVolunteerAsAuthor)_

 **D2M -** _Cassius Tractatori, 16 (ohgodwhathaveidone)_

 **D2F -** _Tatianna Camilla Stone, 18 (Mistycharming)_

 **D3M -** _Gadge Lotus, 18 (shirapp)_

 **D3F -** _Ophelia "Lia" White, 16 (EthanW32)_

 **D4M -** _Amaze Parrigan, 18 (_ tracelynn)

 **D4F -** _Aqua De' Agam, 17 (shirapp)_

 **D5M -** _Kaine Underwood, 18 (RueThisDay)_

 **D5F -** _Eliza Lirae, 15 (RueThisDay)_

 **D6M -** _Heath Lachance, 17 (jacob1106)_

 **D6F -** _Krysralynna Canti, 16 (Ahungergamesfan07)_

 **D7M -** _Elmer Cleveland, 16 (tracelynn)_

 **D7F -** _Gloria Greene, 17 (ThomasHungerGamesFan)_

 **D8M -** _Cad Silk, 17 (EthanW32)_

 **D8F -** _Lacy-Paige Rylem, 15 (maddymellark)_

 **D9M -** _Elion Virchow, 18 (District11-Olive)_

 **D9F -** _Fern Cherry, 13 (Sally The Lioness)_

 **D10M -** _Darby Marshall, 17 (IVolunteerAsAuthor)_

 **D10F -** _Alaska Ascher, 18 (betttyy)_

 **D11M -** _Cornell, 15 (Buffyrocks401)_

 **D11F -** _Fiona Lilliane, 17 (z-fun2001)_

 **D12M -** _Keene Abilio, 18 (z-fun2001)_

 **D12F -** _Aniseed Rosethorn, 13 (Buffyrocks401)_

 **There you have them, this year's Hunger Games tributes! May the odds be ever in their favour!**

 **Also I am putting a poll up for your favourite presidential candidate so far. Go vote!**

 **Please drop a review!**


	3. D12 - One's Connections

**Hello everyone! Here it is, the first Reaping Chapter! It would have been up last night but I was watching Catching Fire, so ya know. Enjoy!**

 **Also, I need escorts as well! Feel free to submit, the form is on my profile :)**

* * *

 _ **Aniseed Rosethorn – District 12 Female**_

 _ **Age: 13**_

 ** _"You can try to intimidate me but I'm not afraid - I know everyone has good inside them!"_**

* * *

"Wait. So five times three is fifteen?" Says Mishal, she really struggles with this kind of work.

"Yeah and if you multiply it by 10?" I say attempting to coax something more out of her. Mishal is a lot better at other subjects, Maths is the only one she struggles with.

"150!" She says. Yes! She got it. It only gets easier from here on out.

My face cracks into a massive smile, "Here, let's have some candy, I've had enough of arithmetic!" I say, running over to one of the jars in our store. I grab a huge handful for Mishal and I to share.

My parents run a candy store in District 12. It's called Rosethorn's Sweets, I know… my papa is very creative. I love him, and my mother as well, she can be strict sometimes, though. I run back to Mishal and drop the handful on the table. We dig in.

"Mmm… These are really good, thanks Annie!" Mishal squeals. I love them too, I've always had a weakness for candy, not one that most District 12 citizens can afford.

All of a sudden my dad walks in. His shaggy red hair floating around his face and his baby blue eyes scanning the place for something. "Annie, have you seen the keys, your mother said it's time to lock up." Again. Lykos, my father is always forgetting something, one time he lost about 5 candy jars worth of money, mother wasn't happy.

"Yeah daddy, they're over there. On the counter, but I was hoping Mishal could stay a bit longer, we're just onto arithmetic, mummy won't complain. She likes her!" This is true, I have loads of friends, though Mishal is the only one that is allowed to come visit, apparently kids from the seam are unsuitable for people like my family.

"Umm, sure darling," he says heading towards the counter, his foot misses the step by the tiniest amount and he slips over. Face-planting right onto the floor of the store.

"Oh no! Papa are you okay?" I say, this happens all the time though, daddy is super clumsy as well as forgetful, mummy and I often laugh about it.

"Yes I'm fine, thanks, go back to arithmetic," he says with a smile on his face. He pulls himself together and locks all the doors apart from the side door, so Mishal can leave when she wants.

Mishal and I stare at our homework… This is going to be a long night. I go get some more candy and put it on the table. "I've got an idea, every time we answer a question we get some sweets, okay?" This is a good idea, it always works. Sometimes I help kids from the seam with their homework, candies always get them going.

About ten minutes later, mother comes running down the stairs. "ANISEED OLIVIA ROSETHORN! What are you doing up so late?! And eating candy! Darling, I told you to watch your figure! Oh well, off to bed. Now! It's the reaping tomorrow. And little miss Marable, I'm terribly sorry but it's time to go. It's been a pleasure having you!" She hollers at us. We start to pack up Mishal's homework and mummy walks back up the stairs. I don't see why my parents care so much about the Capitol, they support them in every way possible. I know they are necessary for the survival of our country. But the things they do… Trust me I know what they do…

"Goodnight Annie, thanks for all your help, see you at the reapings!" Says Mishal, bringing me in for a hug.

"You too," I say smiling at her as she slips out into the night. Mishal is probably my closest friend, only because mother thinks she is suitable, sometimes she can be a bit of a prig. But I love her.

I lock the door and run upstairs. I dive into my awaiting bed, pondering what tomorrow will bring.

* * *

 _ **Keene Abilio – District 12 Male**_

 _ **Age: 18**_

 _ **"You die eventually and the best way to do that is to welcome it with open arms."**_

* * *

"OI LOOK! It's Abilio's boy!" Shouts a voice from the other side of the square.

I spin around quickly and there they are, on the opposite side of the square. "…Shit!" I say to myself, forcing myself away, sprinting as fast as I can. I leave through the path towards the seam, where I live. If I can get away from them without them noticing, I'll be safe. The houses in the Seam aren't in any formation, it's like a maze, I can get rid of them easily there… Game on!

I run as fast as I can, but these are trained men, I can hear them catching up on me. I get to a point in the seam where the houses start getting closer together, less space for me to run. The streets start getting muddier and the buildings scummier. We are nearing my house.

I look behind me, the peacekeepers are only a few houses back. It's now or never.

I turn off onto a side road and pull my body up onto the roof of someone's house. I roll over and lie on their roof, peering down onto the street below.

The peacekeepers run straight on past, assuming I kept going. I let out a long breath I didn't know I'd been holding. I was safe, forever. Tomorrow would be my last day in this district and then the peacekeepers would finally leave me alone, they'd have to, if I was victor.

In case you were wondering, I am not a bad person. I haven't done anything wrong, the god damn white shirts have no reason to be after me. They're after me because of the father I never knew, he left a decade ago, apparently he couldn't deal with having a child. I don't know much about him, but around the district he wasn't very popular. As my mum always phrased it, he had a 'criminal' streak. Apparently, he was a drunkard and was foolish enough to get involved with a street gang. The peacekeepers have been after him for ages now but he disappeared a year back, no one knows what happened to him. I don't really care, I don't have many fond memories of him.

After a minute, I slide down off the roof into someone's flower bed. Hopefully, mum didn't note my absence. Not that she would, she hasn't been the best mum, since dad left. Pulling myself together, I trod on home.

* * *

"KEENE!" Brooke squeals as I open the door. "You're home!" She sprints at me full on and jumps up into my arms. It's kind of an overreaction, I saw her this morning but she is forever worried about my safety and staying at home with mum all day is all kinds of boredom. My sister and I share a special bond, we look out for each other, and she is my everything. It was mum's idea to send me into the games, we needed money for the family, but Brooke is definitely the driving force, I'm doing this for her, if I win we can live together, safely.

"Hey Brooke, did you miss me?" I say teasing.

"Of course Keene! Garnett's here he wants to talk to you," She says, her freckled cheeks lighting up in a smile.

My mood immediately falls. Garnett is my best friend, has been for a good seven years. He is originally from District 1 but was transferred here when his parents… Fell out of favour with the mayor of the district. He's kind of like my personal trainer, when he was young he wanted to compete in the hunger games but his dreams were crushed when he was moved. He was going to give up, but he saw promise in me and inspired me to train and volunteer for the games. He's 23 now. We had a bit of a falling out a week back.

I walk into the kitchen and there he is, sitting at my table, sipping a cup of my tea. It's mine, not my mother's. My whole life I've worked odd jobs, supporting Brooke and mum, I've earned the food in our cupboards and the excuse of a house in which we sleep.

"Keene! Fancy meeting you here," He says with a sly smile, slurping my tea. "I assume you've continued training after our most recent… Obstacle?"

"I have, tell me you're not here to persuade me again, I'm volunteering no matter what, my family needs the money…" A week back, Garnett decided he didn't want me in the games, I was too honest apparently, he feared I would halt in the sight of murder, afraid of killing innocent. He's training another, Jorum, a year younger, I assume Garnett wants him to volunteer instead.

"I'm not here to persuade you, only to inform you. The Hunger Games are a dreadful thing, young children pitted against each other to murder, violate and torture each other. It's a place people go to die! Knowing this, make an informed decision. You don't want to waste this glorious life you have been given." He pleads. That had to have been the fakest shit I've ever heard! Garnett knows I have a life that can be wasted. But I'm not going to waste it, shivering in my hovel, I'm going to spend it in the Victor's Village.

"Look Garnett, you know that what you are saying is a lie, you spent a good seven years of your life training me for this and now you're telling me not to do it, I don't understand. If this is about Jorum, I'm impressed. Jorum is a worthless tribute, he won't make it past the bloodbath. If you want District 12 to be a career district like you've always dreamed, then let me win, people will be inspired! I refuse to not volunteer." I retort. Turning around I realise Brooke is still here, standing in the doorframe, just out of Garnett's sight. I signal for her to leave and she scurries off.

"Listen Keene, this isn't about Jorum, this is about saving your life, please… trust me, You know I've always-" He starts, I cut him off.

"STOP. Please leave my house… now. If you want to see me, visit me at the goodbyes," I say, a twist in my gut. That hurt, this guy is one of the only people I thought I could trust.

* * *

 _ **Garnett Aldridge – District 12 Citizen**_

 _ **Age: 23**_

* * *

I stand, shivering outside Keene's house as night falls, thinking of a way out of the dreadful situation I got him into.

Keene doesn't understand that this is bigger than him. Only a week ago I realised how torturous the Hunger Games are, they aren't something I want to be training kids for. He doesn't know that I love him, like the brother I never had, perhaps like a father loves a son. I couldn't stand losing him. That's why he can't be in these games. I never should have trained him.

Eventually, it comes to me, after a good hour of standing alone in the darkness. I realise that Keene gave me an idea, and as much as I hate it, it has to be the only way safely out of this entanglement.

I knock on Jorum's door. Jorum is the baker's son, he lives in the inner part of District 12, he stands a chance of winning these games.

"Hello Garnett, are you here for Jory?" I look up from my shoes and stare right into the face of his father, a rather unpleasant man that often smells of dead animals.

"Yes, could I come inside, it's dreadfully cold out here," I say with a smile, trying to be polite, it's the only way into this man's house. Manners.

"Sure, Jorum is upstairs, I'm sure he'll be excited to see you, so unexpectedly," says the big man, gesturing for me to go inside.

I've been here before, it has to be the best house in the town, well, apart from the mayors of course. I walk upstairs and open the boy's door, he sits on his bed, reading a book on sword techniques I lent him.

"Jorum… We need to talk"

* * *

 _ **Aniseed Rosethorn – District 12 Female**_

 _ **Age: 13**_

 ** _"You can try to intimidate me but I'm not afraid - I know everyone has good inside them!"_**

* * *

I stand in my room, staring into the mirror. The sun comes in through my window, shining glorious rays across my bedroom floor. Shades of yellow, orange and red, turning the dull carpet into a work of art.

This is my second reaping, last year was my first, standing in line, among the hundreds of children, I felt a connection, I felt loved. The Capitol brings us together. We need them.

I'm wearing a beautiful salmon coloured dress that mummy bought from the tailor a while back. She said it would be perfect for the reapings, leaving a good impression to the Capitol about our family. My blue eyes stare back at me, examining my freckled face and red-blonde hair, my typical town girl face.

"Annie! Could you please come help us with the accounts!" My mum calls from downstairs. They do this often, apparently I'm the best mathematician in the district, and my parents rely on me to complete their accounts. Honestly, it's not that hard, I've tried teaching dad before, he's getting there, I think with a smile.

I run downstairs bursting with happiness and launch myself into a chair by the table. "You look splendid this morning Annie, just right for the reapings!" says my dad with a smile as mum hands me a sheet.

I fill it out quickly, adding all the numbers and writing them in their own spots. Multiplying, Dividing, Adding and Subtracting, this is what I was born for. I feel free among numbers, there truly is no limit.

My father, Lykos, pours me a bowl of cereal and sits in down in front of me as I work. He goes over and kisses mum right on the lips… right in front of me. "Get a room," I say with a smirk. They laugh.

"Darling have we told you about the time your father and I met?" Says my mother. I'm about to answer but she keeps on going. "Your father came in to buy some candy for your aunt, she was only little then, I was working behind the counter. Our eyes met and we fell in love, true love. If I recall that was the day of our last reaping wasn't it?"

"Only a thousand times," I mumble under my breath, but no one gets it, they've all moved on.

I scoff down my bowl of cereal and grab a huge handful of candy. Placing it carefully in my pockets, I hug my parent's goodbye and run outside to join my friends.

We dance around on the streets chucking candy around, playing hopscotch and chasing each other until we can't play anymore. It's time for the reaping.

I head back home solemnly. No matter how nice and helpful the Capitol are, they have to have the games. They are necessary for the peace of our country but that doesn't stop them from being cruel.

When I get back to my house, there are a boy and a little girl standing by the shop window, gawking at the sweets. I skip over to them and pull out the remaining sweets from my pocket. "Would you like some?" I say smiling down at the girl. She's probably only a few years younger than me, but she looks so small.

She looks up at me with huge eyes, staring at me with a huge smile on her face. She grabs one and scarfs it down. I pour the rest into her hands and she squeals. "THANKS!"

"Hi, I'm Keene, nice to meet you," Says the taller boy with a smile, offering his hand. Normally I would avoid big boys but he seems nice enough, so I shake his hand.

"I'm Annie, nice to meet you too," I say, "I've got to go do something now, catch ya later," I say, skipping off into my house.

I was hoping to talk to my parents but they've already left. There is a note on the counter that tells me that they had to run some errands and they'll see me after the reapings. Don't forget to lock up. I smile, of course.

* * *

As I stand in the square, awaiting the escort, standing alongside my many friends, I notice an old lady crying in the square, it awakens a memory.

 _A young girl, only eight years old, is playing in the streets with her friends, they leave but she continues to dance around. A lady is dragged in by terrifying men in white uniforms who surround her and pump her brains full of lead. She falls to the ground, dead. The little girl screams and everyone_ turns _her way, her parents run out of a candy store and carry her away, saying that the lady deserved it, she was a thief after all. The girl believes them, trusting in their knowledge, but as the lady died she was staring right at the young girl, right into her soul it seemed and she saw the truth._

I shake it off, that was years ago, a dumb lady was shot for thievery after she stole someone's milking goat. For some reason it terrified me, silly really, the poor lady was a crook. Justice was served, wasn't it?

Justice. Was. Served.

* * *

 _ **Keene Abilio - District 12 Male**_

 _ **Age: 18**_

 _ **"You die eventually and the best way to do that is to welcome it with open arms."**_

* * *

Well, that was nice of her. A young girl just came along and handed Brooke a big handful of lollies. Who says there aren't nice people in the world?

Brooke and I walk back to our house, the reaping's in an hour and we need to get changed into some nicer clothes.

* * *

I stand in the kitchen straightening my shirt and sliding on a jacket. I'm ready for this, Capitol here I come!

My mum walks into the room and pulls me into a hug, "Oh, Keene, I'm sorry I've been such a bad mother, forcing you into this, but we need the money darling. I love you," she says. Jeez, I can't handle all this soppy stuff. I pull away and plant a kiss on her forehead, believe it or not, I'll miss her. She smiles at me and heads back into her room, probably to get changed.

Brooke emerges, dressed in a beautiful scarlet dress, "Holy cow Brooke, you look spectacular!" I say with a smile, she beams back at me. "Where'd you get that dress from?" I question, normally we couldn't afford something this nice.

"Aah, I'm not sure, mama gave it to me, I'm pretty sure it's special, she said I could borrow it for my first reaping," she says, strutting her stuff all over our tiny kitchen.

I crack up laughing and she joins me, it really did look funny, my slim little sister in a beautiful dress, strutting in our lean-to hovel, like she's a superstar.

We leave our house and walk down into the town square. The peacekeepers prick our fingers, I've always been nervous for this part, if the peacekeeper knows I'm 'Abilio's boy', I have to make a quick escape after the reaping, which is always annoying.

I stand in line among the other eighteen-year-olds, who all look morose, lucky for them, I'll be volunteering this year, they don't have to worry about getting drawn. I glance over to seventeen-year-old section, where Jorum stands, a smile on his lips, I know he's going to volunteer, I just have to get there first.

Wish me luck.

* * *

 _ **Ezekiel Quill – District 12 Escort**_

 _ **Age: 24**_

* * *

District 12! Here I come!

Well, I've already been here for a week, tasting the local cuisines, savouring the lovely sunsets, breathing in the fresh mountain air. It's not exactly fresh, full of coal dust and smog, I'll probably have a throat irritation by the time I get back.

I'm the talk around the town in this district. Walking around in my splendid attire, among the filthy workmen and impoverished ladies. I feel like a star. Which I am of course. Everyone is talking about my clothing here. It's such an amazing sensation, in the Capitol, I was same old, same old. My spiky gold hair and dyed gold skin make me feel like a king!

"Zeke! We need you on the stage in ten seconds! All the guests have arrived," says my assistant, Gloria, as she fumbles around with my script. Stressed as ever.

I straighten my suit and step up onto the stage flashing my delicious smile at all the citizens of the district. I shake hands with the mayor and this year's two mentors – Delly Cartwright (Victor of the 77th Hunger Games) and Francis Donner (Victor of the 98th). They are the only two living victors, the victor of the 50th Hunger Games, Haymitch Abernathy, was killed in the finale of the 75th Hunger Games.

"Ladies and Gentleman!" I bellow into the microphone, I hear my voice boom throughout the square, how fantastic! "I am Ezekiel Quill and I invite you to the reaping of the 103rd Annual Hunger Games!" I say, beaming at the crowd, how exciting is this! This is my third year of escorting, but it never loses its awe.

I rush through the formalities, watching a clip from the late president Snow, publicly honouring his death and announcing the important people with me today.

"This is it, the moment you've ALL been waiting for, which brave tributes shall we send to the hunger games this year?" I question the crowd, but am only answered with dull stares, if there is one thing I don't like about this district, it's its rebelliousness. What could possibly be wrong with behaving?

"As always, ladies first!" I say, marching over to the ladies bowl. I plunge my hand into the depths of the large glass bowl, grasping the first card I find. I make a silent apology to whoever I'm about to announce.

I peel off the black tape and unfold the ticket. I wince. The girl's only 13, that's too young to die. "Aniseed Rosethorn!" I announce, calling it out across the square… It can't be undone now.

A plump girl with red-blonde hair, in the thirteen-year-old section jumps. Like really jumps. A couple of other girls whimper a bit and all look a bit displeased, she must be popular. I can't imagine why, she doesn't have the looks.

She starts to walk towards the stage, evidently holding back tears. I almost feel sorry for her. And then I remember it's an absolute honour to compete in the hunger games. May the odds be ever in her favour!

Once she is on the stage, I give her a light smile and shake her hand, gesturing for her to stand by the glass bowl her name was drawn from.

I smile at the crowd "Time for the boys now!" I say.

As I pull a ticket out of the other glass bowl I feel something very peculiar, like something important is going to happen to me. Maybe I'll get a promotion, I think with a smile.

"Brandon Mellark!" I holler. A stocky blonde boy starts to walk towards the stage.

"I Volunteer as tribute!" say two voices in perfect symphony. A stunning boy from the eighteen-year-old section and a petite boy from the seventeen-year-old section start running to the stage. This is interesting, there is hardly ever a volunteer from district 12, let alone two!

The older boy is sprinting a lot faster than the other boy, longer legs I guess. But the other was closer to the stage.

He starts to catch on the younger boy and when he gets close enough he dives for his feet, grasping them, he tugs and the boy smashes into the floor of the town square. The victor smiles at everyone and struts up onto the stage. "Hello, I'm Keene Abilio and I'm going to be the victor of the 103rd Annual Hunger Games!" He says, all cocky. I'm a trained escort though, I know a fake when I see one, and this boy is super insecure.

The crowd roars despite this, apart from a man in the viewing section who wails. Keene flips him the bird.

Well, that was exciting, I think with a smile.

And then, to ruin it all, the female tribute bursts into tears and runs off stage.

Just perfect.

* * *

 _ **Aniseed Rosethorn – District 12 Female**_

 _ **Age: 13**_

 ** _"You can try to intimidate me but I'm not afraid - I know everyone has good inside them!"_**

* * *

This is horrible, just horrible. I've worked so hard to enjoy the life I've been given, I've loved and honoured the Capitol. And now it's all being taken away from me… The place I knew and loved… And so I cry.

Not just whimpering crying, full on bawling your eyes out crying, I'm not prepared for these games, I know deep down I won't last a second. But I must stay strong, for my mother and for my father, they'll expect great things from me.

Mum and Dad are let in by some peacekeepers and immediately my expectation is flawed. They are both crying their eyes out, obviously upset by our situation. They fall down on the leather couch beside me and hug me. We lie in a huddle, whimpering.

And then, to top it all off, my 7-year-old cousin Cinder walks in, he's crying as well, he dives into my lap.

"I'm so sorry Annie! I didn't want this! I'm sorry for being naughty and for being a pain and… and… and…" He begins before breaking down into a useless huddle. If things weren't bad yet, they are now. Cinder's parents both work full-time in the coal mines, I have to babysit him all the time. He is the bane of my existence; yelling; screaming and whining. 'Gimme this, Gimme that!'

"Time's up," says the gruff voice of a peacekeeper as they peel my family away. Mum and Dad plead with me to come back, I really expected more from them.

Next, my friends pour in. Big ones, small ones, young ones, old ones, fat ones, fit ones, all shapes and sizes. We talk together and they promise that they'll send me sponsor gifts, it isn't up to them but the thought counts. It has to be one of the most awkward situations I've ever been in, though. Each and every one of them is fitter than me and some would have a real chance at winning the games. I don't wish that they had volunteered, but I know they are guilty about not doing it. They purposefully skirt around that fact.

The peacekeeper comes in again and sends them all away.

The door closes behind them, locking me from the district, my home, sealing me from any escape, sealing me to my fate.

* * *

 _ **Keene Abilio – District 12 Male**_

 _ **Age: 18**_

 _ **"You die eventually and the best way to do that is to welcome it with open arms."**_

* * *

First in is Brooke, all sunshine and smiles. She runs at me and hugs me, telling me how awesome I was and that everyone is going to love me. "You'll be a star in the Capitol, everyone will cheer for the volunteer from district 12," she says with a smile.

"Their victor from District 12," I correct her, chuckling. It's all an act though, secretly I am terrified of the games and what lies ahead of me in the Capitol.

"Yeah," she says, gazing off into the distance. She gives me one last squeeze and looks at me, staring intently into my eyes, "Promise me you'll come home though?"

"I promise," Now that I've said that, there's no going back… I will return.

The peacekeeper comes and gestures for Brooke to leave.

Next person in the door is mum… No, that's not mum.

"Hey…" he says, as he bustles into the room, knocking over an expensive looking vase, Garnett has never been particularly cautious. "Shit."

I glare at him, no way am I going to be the first one to talk.

"I'm coming with you," He says with a smirk. What? How on earth could he afford that? After the inter-district travel act was passed by President Snow in the year of the 84th Games, It wasn't long before someone organised a Capitol Visitation act. It was accepted soon after. However, it costs a lot of money for this and no way could anyone from an outer-district afford it, let alone Garnett.

"No, you're not. I don't care if you can afford it, you're not coming. You purposefully put Jorum before me, he can shine next year, this is my year, leave me to my spotlight," I say, rebutting him. He smiles at me, a kind of sad smile, before leaving the room.

Hopefully, I'll never have to lay eyes on him again, in my eyes he is scum.

Delly and Francis, this year's District 12 mentor's come in, Annie walking between them, her cheeks red and blotchy from crying.

"Time to go mate," says Francis giving me a smile.

As Annie and I walk towards the train that will take us to the Capitol I here Delly saying to Francis "You take the fool," I wonder if she means me…

I wonder if she's right…

* * *

 **I hope I captured Annie's super trusting, sweet nature.**

 **Who'd you like better? Aniseed or Keene?**

 **What about Ezekiel?**

 **Thanks to z-fun2001 and Buffyrocks401 for these awesome tribute submissions as well as ThomasHungerGamesFan for Ezekiel!**

 **Also, Garnett will be playing an important role in this story I think, and not just with Keene, with the District 1 Tributes as well. What do you think of that?**

 **Don't forget to vote for your favourite presidential candidate!**

 **If you want to submit an escort to Campaign, the form is on my profile :)**

 **Also! The Tribute Blog is up! The address is:** ** _campaign103hg . weebly . com_**

 **Hope you enjoyed!**

 **Please Drop a Review!**


	4. D10 - Stay Positive

**Hey guys! Sorry this took so long, I was busy. But it's the holidays now, YAY! So I'll try and update once every couple of days.**

 **A HUGE shoutout to "The End of the Beginning" A Hunger Games SYOT by your-eyes-so-bright. It's based around the second hunger games, it's got a really good start and it's definitely worth your time to submit!**

 **So thanks to** **betttyy** **and IVolunteerAsAuthor for these characters, they were awesome fun to right. Darby is supposed to have a really strong Texan accent, I hope that came through. I still need escort submissions, so feel free to submit, the form is on my profile! Also, I know the** **reapings** **aren't in order, but here's to diversity, right?**

* * *

 _ **Alaska Ascher – District 10 Female**_

 _ **Age: 18**_

 ** _"I always like to look on the optimistic side of life but I am realistic enough to know that life is a complex matter."_**

* * *

"Here's one! Knock, Knock!" I say, giggling.

"Who's there?" says Colton, a smirk cut into his flawless face.

"Control Freak," I giggle out, barely containing myself, this one's brilliant.

"Con-" He starts but I cut him off.

"Okay, now you say 'control freak who?'" Genius.

Colton looks at me and shakes his head but I see a small smile creep across his face. I however, crack up laughing, that was easily best joke in the history of the world.

Colton and I have been friends for as long as I can remember, we are like two peas in a pod and sometimes I swear we are the same person in different bodies. He is my rock and we always hang out together. He has to be the best thing that's ever happened to me, well apart from my sisters, I think with a smile.

"Is this the part where I'm supposed to laugh?" Colton questions, putting on a confused look. I giggle and stand up, I should probably go now, it is getting late.

"Catch ya later Colton, the girls are waiting for me," I say, pulling him in for a hug.

"Yeah, see you tomorrow, maybe we could catch up before the reapings?" Of course we could, why is he even asking, I'm confused.

"Of course Colton! See you at Grey's ranch, okay?" I say, walking off towards my house. I only live a few houses down from Colton, we don't live out country like most people. District 10 is really spread out, you see? Most of the population of the district live in ranches all around the place, they breed cattle or other livestock and send it in for their pay. Only very few actually live in the district centre like me.

We used to live out there, on a ranch as well. It was lovely, but we had to move, the cattle weren't surviving very well, the grass was dying. We sold the lot and moved into the District centre.

As I head back to my house, I pass a park, just a small thing really. A few trees here and there, a couple of flower beds… And a bench, the bench, and the reason why my family is a shell of what it used to be. I shudder and move on, rushing past to get home quicker.

As I open the door, I hear the worst possible thing… A fight.

I'm the oldest of four sisters and after dad… left, I had to assume the motherly figure. It's my job to make sure there is food on our table, a roof over our heads, I go out of my way to do so.

"HE IS COMING HOME!" wails a feminine voice. That's Ashlyn, she's the troublemaker and she goes out of her way to make it harder for the rest of us. She must still have fond memories about our father, I have a few of my own, but he ruined them, along with the rest of my home-life.

"No he ain't, he wouldn't care anyway, get off me!" That's Abbigail, she's 16, always diplomatic and reasonable. Off in the background, behind a closed door, I hear someone wailing, that'd be Annalynn. She's only 7 and dad's leaving took its toll on her the most.

I slide open the door, letting the humid air inside, it's July – the worst time to live in District 10. Lying in the centre of the room is Abbigail, her blonde hair spread across the wooden floorboards. In one hand she grips a roll of paper, the other she is using to pull Ashlyn off. Ashlyn is on top of her, straddling her body and attempting to grasp the roll of paper. She pulls Abbigail's arm and slams it into the floor. Woah, too far.

"Ash!" I say, "Get off her!"

She looks up at me and her mad blue eyes glare right into me, "But Abby want's to burn it!" she cries, pointing at the roll of paper. I walk over and take it out of her hand. It's not paper, it's a photo of the whole family even dad, taken a long time ago when our family was, well… A family.

"It's okay Ash, we'll keep it," I say, giving her a sad smile. Normally I would side with Abbigail but something is off with her. I look at her and she looks embarrassed.

"I'm sorry Alaska, It was making me sad," she says sheepishly. I pull her in for a hug, as well as Ashlyn and we stand in silence.

"Okay guys, what do you want for dinner?" I ask as I pin the photo to the wall.

* * *

 _ **Darby Marshall – District 10 Male**_

 _ **Age: 17**_

 _ **"Life's a song that you're continuously trying to find the melody to."**_

* * *

I stand in the publican, the hearty lights shine down on me, I turn to my mother and she nods.

 _"Amarillo by morning, up from San Antone._

 _Everything that I've got is just what I've got on._

 _When that sun is high in that Texas sky_

 _I'll be bucking it to county fair._

 _Amarillo by morning, Amarillo I'll be there."_ I sing, my lungs bursting with the sound of music. This is my favourite song, these are the lyrics I love.

 _"They took my saddle in Houston, broke my leg in Santa Fe._

 _Lost my wife and a girlfriend somewhere along the way._

 _Well I'll be looking for eight when they pull that gate,_

 _And I'm hoping that judge ain't blind._

 _Amarillo by morning, Amarillo's on my mind."_

 _"Amarillo by morning, up from San Antone._

 _Everything that I've got is just what I've got on._

 _I ain't got a dime, but what I got is mine._

 _I ain't rich, but Lord I'm free._

 _Amarillo by morning, Amarillo's where I'll be._

 _Amarillo by morning, Amarillo's where I'll be."_

As I finish the song and my strumming comes to a lull, the applause starts. Everyone is cheering me, whistling and whooping, I'm in my element, this is where I belong. I glance over at my mum and dad, the best people in the world. My mother is smiling at me, her curly brown locks waving all over the place, my dad sits at a table, sipping beer as he chats to a mate, he gives me a quick smile and then turns back to his conversation. Probably to brag about me.

"How was that?" I question the crowd, a smile running playfully across my face. They hoot and holler, all having a merry old time.

"Thanks y'all, I hope y'all have a good supper!" I finish, bowing and tipping my hat for the fair maidens out the front.

I pack up my guitar and swing it over my shoulder. The microphone cord slides out of the amp easily and I step off the stage, beaming at everyone.

That's my favourite song in the whole wide world, It means a lot to me, It was the first song I ever learnt, just a small boy with a voice back then, now I'm a multi-district superstar. Apparently, it's from the old days, long before Panem. Made even before the Dark Days they say. It's about a man from Texas, American District 10, who wishes to get to Amarillo. To me, it's kind of symbolic, I was just a boy with a dream, to get somewhere, just like the man in the song.

My life wasn't always like this, performing in pubs and such. My family and I used to live in a tiny ranch out country, barely surviving. My mama, Lucy, used to sing in the kitchen and by the time I was four, I decided I wanted to join in. Mother said my voice was amazing, everyone always went silent. They soon realise I had been blessed, they booked me in at pubs and within the year we were living in downtown District 10. Don't y'all go telling me miracles don't happen!

"HEY DARBY!" says a tiny voice beside me, tugging on my sleeve. I look down and see a small girl with a slip of paper. "Can I have your signature, I love your singing!" She says with a smile, her eyes twinkling.

"Of course darling, I wouldn't want you to go without," I say, taking the paper and scrawling out my name. I often wonder why people want signatures, I guess it's a memory, but why not just remember me in your head, often it confuses me.

I hand it back to her and she smiles at me, before pulling me into a hug. Her arms only reach up to my waist, if I was watching this, it'd almost be comical.

I go outside into the darkness of the night for some cool air. People are smoking and drinking away their livelihoods, like always. I've never quite understand this kind of people, they work so hard, like herding cattle and making sure they ain't got no problems, what not. And then they go and waste it all on the bottle. My papa, Hector, used to be like them, he was always a bit too heavy on the bottle. He's a good man though, he just liked the feeling I guess. He says he's getting help for his habit, I ain't sure this is true of course, but I trust him.

I spot a bunch of gals sitting the shadows by the park. It's not a big park, just a few trees here and there, a couple of flower beds and this beautiful old mahogany bench. It looks out of place down here, like something that belongs in the Capitol. I've only been here a week but I've spent a couple of day's busking around. Not many people can afford to spend money on me but I do it for the feel. When I'm into my music, I know it, I love the feel. I'm leaving town tomorrow, after the reapings, I've got a gig in District 9, it costs a lot to travel between district's but the amount the pubs pay makes up for it, mama and papa ain't caring at all.

"How y'all doing?" I ask when I'm close enough. There are 4 of them, all blonde-haired beauties, a rare sight in District 10. They all look very similar, definitely siblings. The oldest one looks pained, she clearly doesn't enjoy being here.

"Oh, we're fine. We're just having some supper. We heard you in the pub, you're really good!" Says the older one. The smallest one sit's on her lap, sipping at a cup of soup. The other two sit on the ground beside her, purposely ignoring each other. I'm pretty sure I know one of them, she has to be no more than a year younger than me.

"Thank you, may I join you?" I ask, maybe I could play them a tune or something.

"Umm, yeah sure," says the oldest girl, at first she looked suspicious, but she clearly figured I was safe enough. I don't blame her though, men around these parts can be real scary. "I'm Alaska," she says proffering her hand.

I take her hand and shake it, smiling I say "Darby Marshall, nice to meet ya!" I pull out my guitar and strum a few chords.

* * *

 _ **Winchester Stocks – Victor of the 102**_ _ **nd**_ _ **Hunger Games**_

 _ **Age: 19**_

* * *

"Chester, can you pass me the template?' Asks Ptolemy Fischer, this year's head gamemaker.

"Sure," I dig around in my suitcase until I find the folder I'm looking for. It's a dark crimson colour with 'The 103rd Hunger Games' embroidered in gold on the front. It's the official folder of this year's hunger games. Of course, there are other copies of this folder, so that it cannot be destroyed or misplaced. But this is the official one.

I'm still not quite sure why I'm the head gamemaker's assistant. It was one of Augustus Snow's (The Standing President) first decrees. Well undoubtedly it was his little niece's idea. He said that since I had witnessed the games first-hand, I would have a better knowledge than anyone else on how they work. Apparently I was the victor of the best games ever. Dawn Angelica wanted to go out with a bang, I guess. And I did come up with the idea Ptolemy claims as his own, but no one will know that. I don't really care, I've never lusted for the spotlight.

The only downside of my current position is that I don't get to mentor this year's tributes. Don't get me wrong, I wouldn't enjoy tutoring innocents on how to kill, but knowing what I know, I'd be able to help them out a lot. Besides, it wasn't my choice, Augustus ordered me. District 10 doesn't need me anyway, we're coming third in victor totals. By the time Dawn got the job – just after Seneca Crane's famous quarter quell fail – we had 6 victors, after that, we gained 5 victors in 25 years. Tule Roxen won the 79th Hunger Games, Oxford Paxford the 91st. Following them was Gabriella Ramson, victor of the 96th Hunger Games. Then the big one came, Hero Nox, the famous 14-year-old who won the fourth quarter quell, the year where there were only boys, he had to beat muscled and trained 18-year-olds, he earned his position. He's two years younger than me but could easily beat me in a fight. And then I won, making our victor total 11, beaten only by districts 1 and 2 who have 14 and 15, respectively.

"Thanks," says Ptolemy, grasping the folder from my fingertips. I don't really like Ptolemy, he can be a bit of an ass and he's very ambitious. But after winning the Hunger Games with the people that were in it, I think I can deal with him.

He flicks through the folder until he finds the page he's looking for. Using his dyed silver hands, he unclips the sheet and rests it on the table. "Examine," he says. I've seen it before of course, only at the display ceremony but it's been changed since then. As I study it, I realise that was only the most basic part of his plan, this arena is much more complex than he let on.

It is one arena, split into twelve completely unique and diverse sectors. Ptolemy always claimed it would revolutionise the complexity of gamemaking. I thought he was up himself, but… But he may be onto something. It features twelve different sectors each representing a district's industry or environment. They're all centred on a cityscape, representing the Capitol, It's very intricate. The whole arena is meant to symbolise Panem, the wonderful Ccapitol in the centre, surrounded by its 12 Districts. I scan over the map and look down into the sector descriptions:

 **District 1:** _Rolling Green Hills above ground, to replicate the District's scenery. The Underground is riddled with gem encrusted caves, to symbolise the District's Industry, Luxury._

 **District 2:** _Dirty Open landscape, filled with various bushes, open to anyone's view. One huge mountain in the centre, symbolising the nut, the hub of District 2._

 **District 3:** _Not Finalised_

 **District 4:** _Pristine golden beaches with crystal clear full of fish. An Island by the force field, filled with basic resources such as fresh-water pools and coconuts. All representing the District's Landscape and Industry._

 **District 5:** _Open Desert, appears to be suffering from a drought. Massive electricity pylons scattered around, representing the districts Industry, Electricity._

 **District 6:** _An Abandoned train yard with irreparable trains and gear. No apparent advantage. This is to replicate the famous train yards of District 6._

 **District 7:** _Dense pine forest that gets snowier and colder the closer to the force-field you go. Representing the District's Industry, Lumber, and it's environment, Cold & Snowy._

 **District 8:** _Abandoned Factories, among boulders and ferns, wild coyotes roam. Attempting to replicate the District's Industry and Landscape._

 **District 9:** _This Sector Features massive wheat fields and a giant lake, replicating the Great Lakes that the District is built around as well as the Industry, Grain. The fields are riddled withy venomous snakes and insects._

 **District 10:** _An Arid Landscape with huge rock pillars and scattered trees, symbolising the District's scenery. There are herds of wildebeests that roam this sector._

 **District 11:** _Row upon Row of fruit trees, apples, oranges and pears, representing the District's Industry._

 **District 12:** _Gigantic Mountain ranges representing the famous 'Appalachian Mountain Range' that the District is built in the foothills of. The Underground is full of coal-riddled tunnels that connect with District 1's gem-filled alternative._

The tributes are to be arranged in a 'Panem first' arrangement, all 360 degrees around the cornucopia… which appears to be a roundabout, piled high with supplies. Very nice. I wonder how the tributes will prepare for this.

* * *

 _ **Darby Marshall – District 10 Male**_

 _ **Age: 17**_

 _ **"Life's a song that you're continuously trying to find the melody to."**_

* * *

I sat with Alaska and her sisters for a good half an hour, I played them some tunes, they told me some jokes. The oldest one, Alaska, has this thing for knock-knock jokes…

After a bit, my father, Hector, called me over, he wanted me to get some sleep before we left town tomorrow. I wished them well and left.

This morning, mum woke me up and gave me a warm cup of Joe. We sat in front of the pub, on the veranda and watched the sun rise. We do this most mornings, it's a wake-up call in a way.

I pack my guitar and clothing into the van. We're leaving town today, heading into District 9 for this big music gig I was asked to be in. I have to attend the reapings first of course but I don't stand a chance of getting reaped, thanks to my wonderful blessing, I ain't ever having to take out tesserae.

My mother comes out of the room and hands me this long-sleeved blue shirt. It's got a black piece of fabric stitched around each wrist, it must be something fashionable. Mama often buys 'fancy' clothes from dealers while we are in District 8. We don't visit there often, the people aren't very open with their cash. I don't quite understand the point of this shirt though. "I got this for you Honey-Buns, apparently its all the rage in the Capitol," says my mother with a smile. Beaming her love for me all over the place.

"Thanks mum, I'm sure I'll stand out at the reapings," I say smiling as I take the shirt. I go into my room and pull it on, along with some jeans and my decorative boats, I look quite decent actually, I could get used to looking this good.

I hug my parent's goodbye, "I'll be back in an hour," I say.

I run down the humid streets, littered with the general trash and horse faeces of District 10, the only real thing that stands out is the quiet, normally District 10 is a rowdy commerce hub, full of cattle trucks and such, I guess everyone is at the reaping, I should be too, I'm probably a bit late.

When I get there, the peacekeepers are arranged at desks, one of them waves me over. "Name," he says in a monotonous voice. I don't blame him, being a peacekeeper must be terribly boring.

"Darby Marshall," I say. He looks up at me and if I could see through his jet-black visor, I'd swear he was smiling.

He chuckles and pulls out a slip of paper, "Mr. Marshall, if it ain't a hassle, could I have your autograph?" I reckon this is probably against the law, falling out of character while on duty, but who am I to stop him?

I pull one of my pencils out of my jeans and scrawl a messy. I smile and hand it back to him. He quickly looks around and places it in his pocket. "Hand," he says.

Inside, I'm laughing. If this guy wanted to be an actor, he'd be an actor. The way he can change personalities that quickly, he's destined for the Capitol. I stick out my hand, proffering my index finger. He pricks it and presses my finger into the booklet.

"The 17-year-old male section is over there," says the peacekeeper gesturing across to an area where a bunch of boys my age stand.

"Thanks," I say walking off to join the others.

I stand in line, sucking on my bleeding finger, he didn't prick it much but I've got a blood issue, for some reason my blood doesn't clot very easily. Father always joked that if I was in the hunger games, I'd make one hell of a death, much to mum's displeasure.

I love my family.

The escort, Jenning Kyte, mounts the stage. She's a girl apparently, but people say she was born a boy, I don't think that's true though. People round here ain't changing genders.

I look across at my fellow citizens, almost all of us will leave this square relieved. I feel myself emphasising with the poorer citizens. It's always one of them. It won't be me, not this time, I've never taken out tesserae. Well, it could be… don't I live by the saying 'anything could happen?'

* * *

 _ **Alaska Ascher – District 10 Female**_

 _ **Age: 18**_

 _ **"I always like to look on the optimistic side of life but I am realistic enough to know that life is a complex matter."**_

* * *

"Alaska! Alaska! Ashlyn took my teddy!" It's Annalynn, she's bouncing on top of me, her blonde hair flailing all over the place and her cheeks blotchy and streaked with tears. I don't know how she managed to own a teddy bear, though, it had nothing to do with me.

"What?" I moan, still half asleep. Being a mother is a lot harder than you think. Well, I'm not a mother but close enough right? I've always wanted to work with children and I guess I do, at home, with my lovely family.

"Ash! She took my teddy!" Wails Annalynn, flopping her tiny seven-year-old body down beside me.

I roll off the mattress that I sleep on and waddle out into the lounge room. Abbigail is walking around calling out for Ashlyn. I walk over to the window and stare out over the horizon. Scanning for a little girl. She's probably just sulking around, being her usual self. The sun is high in the sky, it's probably about 9:00am, I shouldn't have slept in so long but this is the one day of the year no one has to do anything, I'm not gonna waste it. It shines down on Grey's ranch, an old abandoned farmhouse where Colton and I- "shit," I say out loud, Colton wanted to meet me there this morning.

"Abby? Do you think you could deal with this?" I ask her.

"Sure," she says smiling, "Ash'll be back soon,"

I go back into my room and slip on a black singlet and some jeans, I kiss Abbigail on the forehead and leave. It is kind of a motherly gesture. My mum used to always do it to me before… Before my parents got divorced.

It was a dreary day in winter, it's never cold in District 10 but sometimes it gets rainy, those are the worst days. It never storms enough to make people stay inside, it just dribbles down from the clouds making people's clothes sodden and their mood miserable. I was walking home on one of those days with Daisy, an old friend. We were passing a park when we saw two people making out on a bench. An elegantly carved mahogany bench, it was new, shipped in from District 7 as a thank you to Hero Nox, a victor who helped out the tributes from seven.

"Get a room," Daisy had mumbled at me, smirking.

I had laughed along with her but it didn't take long before I realised that the man was my dad… And the lady wasn't my mum. I decided to stay silent about it, maybe it was just a phase? Mainly because I loved my family and home-life, after we moved from the country, papa had tried to make it up to us, we became a family, like a real family, not something common in a poverty-riddled district like ours. But eventually dad stopped coming home, he told mum he was working out on farms for long periods at a time.

I knew he was lying, I shouldn't have told mum, it broke her heart. I know that now, but I did, I told mum. And when dad came home from one of these 'trips' mum told him what she knew. He left the following day, after a yelling match, never to be seen again.

His leaving broke everyone, especially mum… I haven't sent her in a few weeks, the last time she came out of her room was on Ashlyn's birthday when she turned 13.

I shake my head to get rid of the memories and pump my legs harder, working into a sprint.

I vault over the gate that leads into the open fields, I run through the flowers and the long grass, stroking the cattle as I run by, giggling. I kick my shoes off and gather some flowers. There's a beautiful pink one that stands alone in the field of golden grass. By the time I get to the ranch, I have a small bouquet of flowers. There's a hole in the wall which is the only way in, all the doors are locked. I peek through the hole and whisper, "Psst, Colton, are you in there?"

"Knock-Knock," says a voice.

"Haha," I laugh, pulling myself through the hole in the wall. "Who's there?"

A pair of calloused hands grab my shoulders and push me against the wall. Hot smelly air is breathed into my face, it's putrid. This is not Colton, "Help!" I scream

All of a sudden the man doubles over and cracks up laughing, rolling around on the floor. The light is dim in here, only a few rays come through the hole in the wall but I make Colton's sandy blonde hair and chiselled golden skin. What an ass.

"That was not funny!" I say crossing my arms. He crossed the line, he knows how much I'm afraid of men, I can never find myself completely trusting them. Colton is the only exception.

"Yeah, yeah it was," He says, obviously he thinks I'm joking but I'm dead serious. I stand still and glare at him, waiting for him to realise. "Oh, sorry," says Colton, standing up.

I drop the bouquet of flowers at his feet and crawl out of the ranch. My shoes lay a good few metres away. I march over to them and slip them on. I'm late for the reapings anyway, I need to get going.

"Alaska! Come back! Please, I need to talk to you!" Yells Colton.

* * *

When I get to the town square, Darby, the boy I met last night, is just entering the reapings. I rush over to one of the peacekeepers. "Name," he says, his voice held at a monotonous pitch. He had to make a boring job boring-er, right? Why don't people stay optimistic? Ever?

"Ascher," I say, "Alaska Ascher,"

The man flicks through the book until he finds Ascher. Abbigail and Ashlyn are already checked off, a bloody fingerprint stamped onto the page. Good, they made it in time.

"Hand," I hold out my hand, my index finger sticks out, he pricks it and presses my finger onto the page, leaving a bloody mark, just like Abby and Ash's.

"The 18-year-old female section is over there he says," pointing at the far left corner of the square, furthest from the stage.

"Thanks," I mumble.

Our Escort, Jenning Kyte is already on the stage. She (or should I call her, he?) wears a pale blue jumpsuit, tight on her aqua skin emphasising her non-existent breasts. She looks displeased, tributes still arriving, she's probably been on stage for a good two or three minutes.

I see Colton enter the square with a few other boys, people travel from all over the district to get to the reapings, unlike most districts, there is a little leeway in the time you have to be at the square.

When the last of Colton's friends have their fingers stamped, the head peacekeeper, Caius, nods at Jenning. This is where the games truly begin.

"Welcome, Welcome! Citizens of 10, I welcome you, to the reaping of the 103rd Annual Hunger Games," She squeaks. Her high-pitch voice has only the faintest hint of masculinity.

When no one replies, she frowns and walks over to the male bowl, she skipped the formalities, that can't be good for her reputation...

"As always, boy's first! Who will be the lucky fella?" She chirps, terribly attempting to mimic the district slang.

Her hand dips in quickly and swirls around a bit, before grasping a slip. She smiles, she's enjoying the attention. She struts over to the centre of the stage. Peeling off the black tape she reads, "Darby Marshall,"

Wails arise from the crowd. I myself find a tear rolling down my cheek, he's such a likeable guy and he'll be missed. No one is going to volunteer for him though, only once has a district won two games in a row, Gloss and Cashmere from District 1. Girls are screaming, people that love his music, fans.

Darby himself stands perfectly still, staring in front of him. Then he realises the true depth of the situation and walks towards the stage, head held high. He won't be coming out of this, the careers from the first few districts are becoming stronger and stronger, he has a chance with sponsors though, he should be playing the 'charmer' role.

"Oh, I know you!" Squeals Jenning, "Such a shame about the situation though," she says a smile on her face. She clearly doesn't care about her tributes lives. I wonder how Winchester dealt with her.

"Do you have anything to say," asks Mrs. Kyte. Darby shakes his head.

"Now for the girls!" she says, strutting over to the other bowl, "Ooh! How exciting!"

She dips her hand in swooshes it around a bit and then takes a slip from the top, putting on a show. She walks over to the centre of the stage, next to Darby.

"Alaska Ascher,"

* * *

 _ **Hero Nox – Victor of the 100**_ _ **th**_ _ **Hunger Games**_

 _ **Age: 17**_

* * *

She stands there, her beautiful cream skin shining under the bright sun of District 10, her perfect blonde hair falling in waves around her shoulders. A dark beauty mark resting above her luscious pink lips.

When her name is called she looks shocked, traumatised but then she puts on a smile and skips up onto the stage, despite the terrible screams from 3 girls in the crowd, her sisters. The people in the Capitol will be amazed, she played that well. She truly is perfect.

"I'm Alaska Ascher!" She says, beaming out at the crowd, "Alaska Ascher, Victor of the 103rd Annual Hunger Games, has a nice ring to it," she says, giggling, faking confidence.

She's in the year above me, I've been in love with her for… forever.

Now she's in the Hunger Games, this is all wrong. I'm going to mentor her, she's coming out of here alive whether Augustus likes it or not.

"Well, that was exciting!" Beams Jenning, the transsexual escort that helped me to get sponsors during the hunger games. It was a hard task, everyone was interested in the other District 10 Tribute a humongous boy with iron muscles. He fell short though, killed by the careers at a feast. The careers couldn't stop me though, I killed them all in the finale, four on one.

Gabriella Ramson, victor of the 96th Hunger games and my fellow mentor turns to me, "you take the girl, I think I've got a better chance of getting the boy sponsors," she says. Gabriella is always like this, up herself, just because she got me out of the arena alive she thinks she's top dog. I got good 'ol chesty out though, so I guess we're even. I'm not complaining, though, I'll bring Alaska to victory.

* * *

 _ **Darby Marshall – District 10 Male**_

 _ **Age: 17**_

 _ **"Life's a song that you're continuously trying to find the melody to.**_ "

* * *

"We love you, son, never forget that," says my dad, tears strewn across his face.

Mother sits next to me silently crying, they're both trying to stay strong for me.

"Time to go," says a peacekeeper grasping my parents around their biceps and pulling them out of the room.

"Come home, son."

I sit there in the silence, pondering. The girl I met last night is in the arena with me, what are the chances? I think we'd make good allies though, I'd pull in a few sponsors, especially with Gabriella Ramson to guide me, she won only because of sponsors. Truth is she would have died twelve times if it weren't for sponsors.

"WE LOVE YOU DARBY!" Wails a female voice. I turn around to look at the door. There's about twenty girls standing at the door, pouring in. Uh oh, dad calls these fangirls.

* * *

 **So there you go! The District 10 Reapings!**

 **Did you like it? Who'd you prefer? Darby or Alaska?**

 **What'd you think of Hero's miniature POV? I hope it wasn't too creepy :/**

 **So in case you didn't catch the hint earlier on, I haven't decided on the District 3 sector of the arena. If you have any ideas, make sure you pop them into your review! :D**

 **I wasn't going to do an arena reveal until just before the games, But I felt here was a good a spot as any. What do you think of the arena? Good/Bad?**

 **Also, Alaska had a really, really amazing personality which I definitely failed to completely capture a in this short reaping chapter, however she will have another point of view before the games where I'll try and build on her more. And of course during the games… Unless she dies in the bloodbath ;)**

 **Don't forget to drop a REVIEW!**

 **Until next time :D**


	5. D8 - Move Along

**Okay, so last chapter was WAY too long, I got a little carried away, the tributes were so good :)** **You guys sent a load of awesome reviews to last chapter, thanks! So, here's the District 8 Reaping, featuring tributes from EthanW32 and maddymellark as well as any escort from** tracelynn **. Thanks for submitting and I hope I did your tributes justice!**

* * *

 _ **Cad** **Silk – District 8 Male**_

 _ **Age: 17**_

 _ **"I'm small, smart, and serious when I say I'll do whatever I need to, to get home."**_

* * *

"Sign our petition!" Oliver calls across the schoolyard, "Help support FREE travel between the Districts!"

We've been out here for an hour with no luck. People just aren't interested. I struggle to think of any reasons why someone wouldn't want to be involved with our petition. Who wouldn't want free travel between the districts?

"Maybe people are worried about the peacekeepers?" I say quietly. I only talk in quiet tones.

"Cad, you're over-analysing again, you think too much," says Oliver. We're exact opposites, I'm quiet and he's loud. He does enough talking for the both of us.

I nod at him and he smiles weakly, "Hey, maybe we should pack up, people don't seem to be signing, peacekeepers or not," he says.

We pack up, which doesn't take long, we only brought some set-up chairs and a notice board. As we walk home, between the smoky factories of District 8, a girl walks up to us.

"Hey, I'm Wanda." She says holding out her hand. I shake it.

"You guys were the ones doing the petition right?" she asks.

"Yeah, are you interested?" Asks Oliver, passing her the form.

"Definitely! I've always wanted to go to the mountains at 12," says Wanda excitedly as she scrawls her name. "Oh, and the great lakes out at 9, it would be such an adventure!" She squeaks, passing me back the form. She smiles at us and leaves.

Great, now our petition has three names on it. We're a 333,333.333th of the way to getting this published in the Capitol. The President's unreasonable but not impossibly so. At the moment, he's refusing to pass it, but if we get a million signatures, we can advertise in the Capitol.

"Dude! She was sooo into you!" Oliver says, super enthusiastically.

"What? No, she wasn't," Girls are never into boys like me. Boys like Oliver are there kind of thing.

"Uh, yeah she was, she was so excited about-" He starts.

"Mountains and Lakes," I whisper, cutting him off.

"No man. She was excited to be near you!" Sometimes Oliver gets a little over the top. Talking for hours is his forte, listening is mine, so we make a good team.

I smirk and shake my head, I've never seen that girl before and I'll probably never see her again, District 8 is that big. I'm very observant though, maybe I'll see her at the reapings…

"Well, at least we got a signature," says Oliver as we start walking again.

We live on the same street, about five kilometres from the closest school – eight has about twenty of them and none are any good – which is part of the reason why we're friends. I listen to Oliver chatting the whole way home, about sport, our petition, what it would be like to go to District 2, how his dad got a job at one of the top factories. Like always, I manage to keep him talking without saying a word.

Oliver is the kind of guy that is fit and good-looking, the kind of guy that could survive a Bloodbath. If he was born in 2, he'd be a career, it's just the kind of body he's got. Many people are surprised when they see him hanging out with me, I'm a scrawny nerd apparently. Though Oliver is a lot smarter than people think, maybe even smarter than me, he is going to top this week's test.

We part ways and he crosses the dirt lane over to his house. When he gets to the door he turns around and calls across the street, "You didn't even get her number!"

I smile… Idiot.

Oliver is my only friend, really. I have other people I hang out with, I guess. But we aren't as close as Oliver and I. I don't trust many people, well not completely. There's Oliver and then my grandparents. My parents, you ask? Yeah, well that's not exactly a possibility.

I walk down the rest of the lane slowly. Scuffing my cheap canvas shoes in the dry gravel. Some people can afford the kind of shoes they send to the Capitol, not us though. My grandparents buy the cheapest one's they can find, I don't blame them, shoes are of little value in life, – oxymoron, yeah I know – they aren't the key to a happy one.

I knock on the door and take a step back. If anything, living with my grandparents has taught me etiquette. According to Mrs. Flax, I'm the politest student in the District. Nice, but not the kind of compliment people are impressed by.

My grandma opens the door. She's sixty and you can tell. She used to have blonde hair but now it's just… not blonde. People go grey because of stress all the time and after… Well, let's just say she has had a lot of stress in her life.

She smiles at me, full on, ear to ear and pulls me into a hug. "Danny, he's home!" she calls out. Danny, that's my grandpa. I've only been gone six-seven hours, my grandparents must love me a lot, I guess. They couldn't stand losing me. Every year, after the reapings, they throw a party to celebrate the fact that I wasn't reaped. Usually, the whole neighbourhood is invited, my Nan & Pop like to celebrate everyone. Last year it was a private occasion though, Little Jonnie Garments from down the road was reaped.

I've never enjoyed these parties. Parties aren't really my thing, I like peace and quiet. I've been invited to birthday parties before, lots of them. But I've never actually went to them, I'd prefer to stay at home and read about District 3.

District 3? What, Don't I live in 8? Yeah, I do. History isn't my kind of thing, I'm a dreamer. People often say I should've been born in 3, that's why I want to pass this petition… I could move to 3!

My pop walks over to the door and pulls me into a hug, "I missed you, son," he says with a sad smile on his face. Reminiscing about my mother probably. Again, it's only been a few hours.

Instead, I just say, "You too pops,"

* * *

 _ **Lacey-Paige Rylem**_

 _ **Age: 15**_

 _ **"My skies are dark and my days are grey, for I have no love to light my way"**_

* * *

I sit in my bedroom facing the wall. There's a book between my hands but I'm not reading. My eyes are glued on the pink wallpaper, decorated with floral designs. It's pretty really, the way the flowers connect, intertwining with each other, creating intricate pathways along the walls.

I can hear them downstairs yelling.

I don't know why, I can never quite figure it out, something is wrong though.

I glance down at the book in my hands. _'A History of the Hunger Games'_ it reads. I haven't paid much attention to the book, sometimes I read without reading, the information flies straight over my head and down the drain.

I hear them yelling louder, then a smashing sound. Sometimes the arguments get… complicated, that's when you hear the smashing sounds.

I stand up and place the book on my chair. Dragging my hand along the patterns on the wall, I walk over to my bedside table. There's a phone there. Penny's number is written on a post-it note, a splash of fluorescent yellow against the lacquered mahogany of the bedside table.

I am the mayor's daughter, that's why I have such a nice room. And a nice house. I'm lucky, others are less fortunate, that's what my nurse says.

I don't look at it that way though. "Think of the starving kids in 12 or in the poorer parts of eight," My nurse might say. At least they have someone that loves them. "Not all of them, some of them have lost their parents, you've still got yours" My parents can't be called parents, you talk to me more than them. "They're busy, they have important jobs," She might say… My mum doesn't work.

I don't think I'm selfish, you might think that, but what do you know? You don't have my parents.

I call Penny now, when I need to talk to someone, my nurse tells me to talk to her.

People say we're like two peas in a pod, Penny and I. She's 26, a good 11 years older than me and my sister-in-law but apart from that we're very similar. Her parents were… like mine as well.

"Hey darling, what's up?" says Penny, her voice crackling through the phone. Unlike most people in District 8, we have a phone, or a lame excuse of one, the closest phone tower is in District 6 and that's a long way away.

"Dad…" I whisper into the receiver.

"Oh," she replies.

The line goes silent for a bit, and then I hear Penny's crackly voice say, "I'll come over, I'll bring Nat and Marcus, okay?"

I don't reply so she just says, "See you soon," and hangs up.

I sit there silently for a bit, still holding the receiver to my ear.

I hear my parents downstairs, still yelling. This might go on for a very long time.

I lie on my bed, staring up at the ceiling. It's pink as well, though devoid of floral patterns. It looks so clean and empty. Like it's lonely, all by itself. As I stare up at it, it stares down at me. We're so very alike, well apart from the fact that it's an inanimate object…

I hear the doorbell ring and the yelling stop. I hear my dad say "Shit," and then I hear the creak of our door opening. I've always been fascinated by our door, it's carved very intricately, even more so than the flowers on my wall.

I hear a discussion downstairs. "Nathaniel-Twine Batik Rylem, why on earth are you here?" I hear my mother ask. I slip off my bed and onto the floor, holding my ear to the carpet, I listen.

"Oh, I'm so sorry mother. My sister gave us a call, she wanted to she wanted to play with Marcus, you know how she dotes on him." Says my brother, polite as ever.

"Yes, of course, I knew that." I hear my mother say. That's a blatant lie, I doubt she even knows my name.

I hear footsteps coming up the staircase and see my door slowly creek open. "Lacey-Paige, you have a visitor," It's my nurse.

I smile at her and head towards the door, I'm not allowed to have other people in my room. She's tried to teach me social skills before. Smiling politely is as far as I've ever gotten.

Penny stands in the waiting room with my mother, who's frowning. "Lindsay-Paige, why did you invite your brother over? Did I ask you too?" Asks my mother glaring at me. Point proven, my name is Lacey-Paige.

She nags my father constantly, I need a break from her constant whining. I wish I could tell her that, instead I say, "Sorry mother, Penny told me she had a book she wanted to read and I wanted to see Marcus's adorable baby face." That's not far from the truth. That has to be the longest sentence I've said all week.

"Very well, I'll make some tea. Nathaniel dear, please come help." My mother says with a faked smile.

I look up and see my father coming down the stairs, a sad smile worn into his ageing face. "Good Morning Penny," he says. It's mid-afternoon.

I was once told my parents were in love. Long ago… Now though, I'd say they might as well be enemies.

* * *

 _ **Crucis Nairn**_

 _ **Age: 27**_

 _ **"Oh, I just can't wait, to be king"**_

* * *

Emanuel is a fool, a big one. If he thinks for a second that he's going to be the new president, he's a fool. He thinks I'm helping him, he pays me for advice on his campaign, really, I should be paying him. He's my… figurehead.

During my stay in District 5, I managed to persuade him to run for President. It wasn't hard, he lived a lame excuse for a life and his wife was an utter bitch, he was already searching for a way out. He thinks that if he becomes President he can end the Hunger Games, it's a far-fetched vision, I'll give him that. As soon as the upcoming election has been decided, I'll take over the presidency. Confident much? Yes, yes I am. Emanuel is ruling the polls for Presidency, almost 50% of the populations said that they're going to vote for him, the only real contender is that wicked old hag Dawn. And what if, you ask, what if Emanuel doesn't hand over presidency? He'll have to, he's walked right into my trap and if somehow he manages to get out well then I'll… Well, then I'll… I'll tear him a new one!

I don't mind to blow my own trumpet but I am quite a despicable genius… Crucis Nairn, President of Panem! Who doesn't like the sound of that?

I crunch into my apple, clear juice particles splatter on the walls. This apple is good, nice and juicy, just how I like it.

The door is swung open and Emanuel walks in. He's wearing a suit. Plain black with a white undershirt, simple but effective, he looks neat but simple, so I'm not surprised the Capitol like him. I'm not jealous, no, all his successes are mine.

I start to talk, normally Emanuel wants to learn as much as he can about politics in the short time he has. "Don't talk," says Emanuel.

I smile and nod, spitting an apple seed across the room. It hits the wall and bounces into the rubbish bin. Emanuel glares at me, "My house, my rules. This isn't a mi casa su casa apartment. No eating food on the carpet."

For a District citizen, Emanuel acts oddly… empowered.

"Switch on the reapings," he says, "I've only got a few hours, I'm expected in 5 soon."

"Who are you, bossing me around?" I ask. I can't stand when people get like this.

"I'm paying you," Emanuel says with a sarcastic smile as he hangs his suit jacket over the edge of the couch. We'll see who's in charge when the elections over, I think slyly. I just can't wait to be king…

I flick the screen on anyway, for now Emanuel has the perception he's in charge and there's nothing wrong with that.

The District 10 Reapings are on at the moment. A good-looking young man stands on the stage, he must be the male tribute… I have the faintest feeling I've seen him before. Next to him stands Jenning Kyte, reading a name from a ticket. Jenning is an odd… Woman? Man? She'll be insulted no matter what you call her, that's why no one calls her anything. She doesn't seem to have a problem with that either.

The camera pans down to a girl. She looks a bit funky to me, her skin is blotchy, so much that you can tell she doesn't wear any make-up, disgraceful behaviour. She smiles and skips up to the stage, oddly happy considering she's just been delivered a death sentence. District 8 comes on next. The entertainment division is doing the reapings in a different order this year, keeps the people on their toes apparently, not knowing which District will come next.

The District square is full of citizens dressed in clothing, varying in colour. The citizens of District 8 wear colourful clothes, considering they're one of the poorer Districts. I like 8, they always supply awesome Bloodbath tributes, I'm looking forward to these games. They'll be my last games of being a regular citizen, next time around I'll be president.

I can't wait for the blood to start flowing.

* * *

 **Cad** _ **Silk – District 8 Male**_

 _ **Age: 17**_

 _ **"I'm small, smart, and serious when I say I'll do whatever I need to, to get home."**_

* * *

 _5, 4, 3, 2, 1! Let the Games Begin!_

 _She runs towards the cornucopia, a massive golden horn full of goodies. Her legs flail as she sprints, weapons smile at her, their shiny blades gleaming. They scream her name. Her husband runs after her, prepared to fight off any threats, his fists in the air._

 _They don't want to kill, they're doing this for their son, he needs to live._

 _She goes down first, a dagger to her thigh thrown by one of the careers causes her to fall over. She screams in agony as she falls. Wrenching the knife out of her thigh, she passes it to her husband. 2 comes at them, a smile chiselled into his blood-covered face, wielding a spear. He grimaces and throws the spear at the wounded girl. It plants itself in her chest, puncturing her heart. BOOM!_

 _'_ _Diana, NOOOOO!' cries the husband, tears streaming down his face._

"NOOO!" I scream, writhing in my sheets. "NO, PLEASE, NO!" I wail.

My door is flung open and my pop comes in, dressed in his pyjamas. He sees me, tangled in my bedsheets. "It's okay," he says soothingly.

I turn over and look at him. His frail figure, hunched slightly from over-working is lighted in my doorframe. His brown eyes that seem to pop out of his face and his dull grey hair with bald spots falls messily above his forehead, his hairline receding. I give him a weak smile and he closes the door, to give me privacy.

I roll onto the floor and attempt to break free from my entanglement. After a minutes worth of struggling, I manage to stand up. My body is sweat-soaked, little yellow stains under my arms.

I don't have that dream very often. Only when I'm stressed really… And always the night before the reaping.

My mother gave birth to me when she was very young, 17 I think. She lived in the part of 8 where contraception hadn't quite hit. My father and she must have hit it off one night. My Grandfather said he was a good man and that Diana (That's my mother) was lucky to find someone as pure and loving as him. He must've been a nice guy. A year after my birth, she was reaped… My mother was reaped.

Whenever this comes up in conversation, my grandparents try desperately to change the topic. They don't like talking about it. They haven't told me much about my parents but I've gathered bits and pieces from neighbours and I've seen some replays of the finale. Not that they made it that far.

It was the 87th Hunger Games. My mother was reaped and my father, being the man he was volunteered. He wanted to save her, bring her home so that she could take care of the baby, at least that was the plan. She died in the bloodbath, speared by a career, no one remembers which one. Some people say my father gave up after her death, died in the bloodbath as well, crying over his partner's corpse. Others say he fought honourably until the end, dying just before the finale. I'm not sure which version I believe, or which I want to believe. All I know is my parents are dead.

That dream I just had, that's my version of how it might have happened… I've never gotten past that bit, that's always when the dream ends.

I tear the sweat-soaked sheets from my bed and throw them into a pile on the ground. My shirt goes there as well and I stroll shirtless out of my room. I walk to the kitchen, kind of like sleep-walking I guess. It didn't feel like I was controlling my body.

I'd never say this out loud, but the Capitol is evil. Everyone says that, right? I guess, but not many people have a personal stake in this like I do. The Capitol have tyranny over the Districts. It shouldn't be that way. People that are reaped should express their feelings, live, while everyone's watching. It would be the perfect insult to the Capitol, I mean, turning their weapon against themselves, wouldn't that be perfect. If I was reaped I'd make sure to voice my opinions. Well, I say that now…

I grab a glass from the cupboard and pour some water in. It's an ugly brown colour, like always. Clear water is unheard of around here.

The water slides down my oesophagus in 3 gulps. It's refreshing, despite its colour it is still water.

I sit down on the bench, my lanky legs dangling towards the ground, pulled by the force of gravity. I wonder what my parents would be like if they were still alive today. Would they be generous and kind? Or would they be strict and grumpy, having stopped loving each other long ago? I don't know and frankly, I don't care.

I put the glass down on the bench and head back to my room. I sit on my bed, I'm not going back to sleep. The reapings are tomorrow and I have to be wary. Staying awake isn't the most effective way, but I've got a feeling the nightmare will return.

And there's no way I'm gonna let it do that.

* * *

 _ **Lacey-Paige Rylem – District 8 Female**_

 _ **Age: 15**_

 _ **"My skies are dark and my days are grey, for I have no love to light my way"**_

* * *

I was told once that I'm introverted. I spend all my time concentrating on my own life and spend little time socialising. It's just what I do. You can interpret that in multiple ways, you could say I'm selfish or simply solitary. I don't care. If you leave me alone, I don't have to think about you.

When my brother left yesterday the house felt cold… Empty, I felt alone. Sometimes, I feel like Marcus is a nuisance, crying and whatnot but yesterday was special. Maybe I could move in with them. 15 isn't exactly old enough, though… Oh and I'm the daughter of the mayor, I wouldn't want to 'tarnish' his name.

I stand in front of my cupboard. It's full. Very full. There are so many options and I don't know what to do. It's not that I'm fussy, I just couldn't care less. I grab the closest item, a little pink dress complete with frills. I remember my father bought this for me long ago, one of the times we were visiting the Capitol. The lady at the counter said it was simple and plain, in 8 though, it's odd and abstract.

I slip into it quickly, burying any worries. I won't be reaped today, being the mayor's daughter does have its advantages.

I skip downstairs and out the door, I'm in a happier mood today. Meeting with Penny always cheers me up.

I open our door, the spectacular one with intricate carvings and step outside. My friend Bethany stands there, wearing a bright red dress, "Lacey! Come with, the results are up!" she chirps.

"Oh," is all I say.

She grabs my hand and pulls me down the stairs. We had a test at school a few days back. I've expressed interest in the results, that's why Bethany's so excited. She says that sometimes I can be dull and awkward. Yet another person telling me I need help with my social skills.

We run along to the school. Its fences are high and spiked, keeping out any intruders. The rain falls down on us, the weather isn't good today. The main gate is open and Bethany pulls me through.

We stand in the middle of the schoolyard. There is a crowd of students surrounding the noticeboard. "Come on," Bethany says, pulling me forward.

I stand on the outside of the crowd, peering over others shoulders to get a good look at the chart. People chat excitedly, even though the reapings are today. There are two columns, Boys & Girls. At the top of the boy's column is… Oliver Barnes? I think that's what it says. The girl's column has my name at the top, damn, I got the highest score.

"WOW! You did amazing!" Squeaks Bethany. "Hey, maybe we could go to the bakery before the reapings, what do you reckon?" She asks.

I shake my head, we should probably get to the reapings. Bethany frowns, "ya know, you should probably try talking more often. It isn't bad for your health!"

* * *

 _ **Skyletsa Rutger – District 8 Escort**_

 _ **Age: 41**_

* * *

I stand on the stage looking glorious. My nails shine with radiance. All the colours of the rainbow; red; orange; yellow; green; blue; indigo; and violet. Ooh! I look fantastic. My whole body is rainbow really! I've got a wig! I've got nails! I've got makeup!

I stare up at the sky. It's raining right now. Haha! Isn't that a coincidence! I hope there's a rainbow!

Yes, I'm a little nervous, don't rub it in. It's not because I'm new or anything, no I've worked as an escort for 15 years! No, it's because my job might be in danger. There's a new head gamemaker you see and he's picky. He's going to watch the reapings and keep only the best escorts on. If I don't prove myself, well then I'll be fired. It's probably because I'm old… You wouldn't know it though, apparently I don't look a second older than 26!

Dawn Angelica, the previous head gamemaker was such a sweetheart. She was older than me, so I guess she sympathised. Older escorts are quite an oddity. She's running for president now, for sure she'll get it.

I look down into the crowd. I'm about to start, I would have already if the tributes weren't late. After President Snow's death, the peacekeepers have become oddly relaxed. The houses around the square are dirty and you can tell half the citizens haven't washed in days. It could be worse, at least these people have a taste in clothing. I hear in District 12 they all wear brown! Oh, now that would be unpleasant.

One of the peacekeepers down the back looks at me and nods. It's time to begin.

"Ladies and Gentleman! Welcome to the Reaping of the 103rd Annual Hunger Games!" I say, my voice echoing around the square. I met with dull stares. I admit, I wouldn't be happy if I was about to be sent into the Hunger Games. But I can't stand angry tributes! Last years boy was a monstrosity! He had everything, anger management problems, dyslexia and ADHD, he had such a bad temper. I hope I don't get any repeats of him this year. He died in the bloodbath.

I introduce the mayor and the previous victors. There aren't many, District 8 has never been very successful in the Hunger Games. Our most memorable victor would have to be Calico Johan, he won the 75th Hunger Games somehow. The head gamemaker decided all the tributes were to be disabled, which didn't go down to well in the Capitol. It's cruel and inhumane, we people can't stand stuff like that.

I read out the formalities. A public announcement of our President's death, a video from the Capitol and the highlights of last year's games. All mandatory viewing.

"Now, for the tributes!" I say. I know the citizens don't like suspense and I'm not going to torture them.

I strut over to the female bowl. "Girls first!" I chirp.

I dip my hand in and grasp a slip. "Lacey-Paige Rylem!"

I hear someone wail, it's the mayor. "Whatever is your problem Batik?" I ask as I turn to face him.

"That… That's my daughter," he says quietly. Oh dear, that's quite a shame.

I look out into the crowd, searching for this year's female tribute. A 15-year-old starts to walk forward. She's quite pretty, she reminds me of one of those porcelain dolls, pale creamy skin with rosy red cheeks. It won't be hard to get her sponsors.

"SOMEONE VOLUNTEER! PLEASE!" The mayor calls, standing up on his seat. He is ignored, no one's going to volunteer. That stuff doesn't happen in District 8.

"Would you like to say anything?" I ask the girl. She shakes her head.

"Okay, boys next!" I say as I strut over to the bowl on the opposite side of the stage.

I snatch a ticket from the top and peel off the tape. "Cad Silk!"

* * *

 ** _Cad Silk – District 8 Male_**

 _ **Age: 17**_

 _ **"I'm small, smart, and serious when I say I'll do whatever I need to, to get home."**_

* * *

And just like that, my future was taken away from me.

Everything I had ahead of me in life, all of it… gone. These people, they have no thought for others. This lady, Skyletsa, probably doesn't even care about us. She's paying more attention to her god damn wig than the tributes.

I hear my grandparent's cries. I feel so bad for them, they're going to lose yet another child. That's no way to think of it. I can get home, it's not that far-fetched. I just have to do what they want, I have to put on a show.

I place one foot ahead of the other and eventually I get to the stage. I smile out at the crowd, I'm already formulating a plan to get home. "Would you like to say anything?" Asks our escort.

"Yes, yes I would," I tell her. Taking the microphone, I project my voice out into the crowd. "Don't worry guys, you'll be seeing me soon." It wasn't much, but at least it was something. The escort ushers us offstage and finishes off the ceremony.

Calico, the oldest living victor from our District approaches. "I like you guys. Don't give up hope," he says. "Okay, so guys, you have 10 minutes for goodbyes. Make it count."

Lacey-Paige and I head towards the Justice Building. It stands tall and proud among the ramshackle houses of our District. Flying banners of the Capitol.

Oliver was the first to visit, he was very supportive, telling me I had what it takes to win. He said I was brave and smart, I could easily outwit the other tributes. He's right, in a way… I'm playing this game to the end.

I make him promise to keep the petition going. It has to continue, even without me. Free Travel should be a right.

The only other visitors I have are my grandparents. My grandmother is upset, tears are streaming down her face, leaving messy marks. "Please don't go Cad, we need you!" she cried. For her, for my grandfather, for Oliver, for the District and for my parent's memory, I will be back.

My grandfather stood there, off to the side. He was upset as well, but he tried to stay strong. He's always been the father I never had. I bring them both in for a hug and then they are taken away.

I don't know if I'll ever see them again or if they'd ever see me again. Though one thing is for certain, there'd be no party this year.

* * *

 **Did you like it?**

 **Who'd you prefer? Cad or Lacey-Paige?**

 **Both characters were very similar, quiet and introverted, I guess they'll make a good team.**

 **I tried to express Lacey-Paige's introversion by starting most of the non-speech paragraphs with 'I', expressing that she concentrates a lot about herself. And she probably came across WAY more depressed than I intended… Whoops :)**

 **Also, I hope the latter part of this chapter wasn't too bad. I was kinda rushed, so it might be a bit bad or even incomprensible.**

 **So, I'm going on holidays now and I won't be able to do much writing, so don't expect an update for at least another week. I'll try and keep up to date with reviewing, it just won't be as often.**

 **Oh, and make sure you check out my collection of victor one-shots: A Brief History of the Golden Period**

 **Until Next Time :D**


	6. D9 - Fire! Run!

**Hoi! Here is the reapings for District 9. I've decided that there won't be an order for the reapings, mumbo jumbo will be fine. Thanks to District11-Olive and Sally the Lioness for these amazing tributes as well as Buffyrocks401 for Castor Sugar. What an awesome name :D**

 **If you want to find out more about Felicity Miller's games as well as all the Hunger Games prior to Campaign (76th onward) make sure you check out my other fic 'A Brief History of the Golden Period'**

 **Oh! And if you guys want to submit to an epic SYOT, make sure you go check out John Wilde's 'Lawless'! He's only just started but his twist is amazing and so is the whole premise of the story. Make sure you check it out :D**

* * *

 _ **Warning: References to Drug use and Self harm**_

* * *

 _ **Fern Cherry – District 9 Female**_

 _ **Age: 13**_

 _ **"You can count on me to do my best… and more."**_

* * *

The girl on the screen jumps through the trees, silently making her way to the cornucopia. Her dark skin and curly black hair are barely visible against the night sky and the treetops. Anything can be an advantage in the Hunger Games… You just have to let it be.

When the sun rises on the eighth day, the tributes make their moves. The first is the red-haired girl from 5, she'd been hiding in the cornucopia all night. She skips out and snatches her bag, before running off. She's intelligent. It's stuff like that that can take you far in the games. Every idea is worth contemplating, with the right moves, anyone can win.

The pair from 2 come out next, the brutish boy and his petite sidekick. Rue hides in the trees looking down on them all. The rest of the career pack follow them, weapons raised, this year the career pack were no fools, they knew how to work. They snatched up the rest of the packs; 1, 2 and 11. Rue's District partner ran out, axe raised, he pelted it at them and it stuck in 2's neck. Clove fell down, dead.

Marvel was next, he took an axe to the gut, just before he was able to throw his spear. Two cannons boomed around the arena. He threw another, barely missing the victor's throat. The girl shot an arrow that pierced the monstrous boy's heart. He fell, dead.

I fast forward the rest of the game, I've seen it multiple times before. Rue's probably one of my favourite tributes, the way she played the game was flawless. Her only downfall was that she wasn't prepared for the finale, she was weaponless and the brute from 2 took her down easily. Rue Aster placed second in the 74th Hunger Games, had she been more prepared, she would've won… Preparation is key.

I skip through a few, the 75th was terrible, all the tributes were retarded, there was no skill at all, 76th was also lame, Emanuel was a spineless fool, his victory was just chance. 77th was okay, Delly Cartwright had some degree of skill… Here we are, the 78th: Victor, Felicity Miller of District 9. Now, she had skill.

I smile as I watch her, jotting down notes. She mainly used her skill with a scythe to get her through the game… And her brother, but I won't go into that, it wasn't her fault he killed himself. My papa comes in hauling a massive sack of grain.

"Fern!" he says, "Why aren't you helping Aly!"

"Sorry pa, I was just studying up," I reply politely.

"On the Hunger Games?" He questions, "Why aren't you doing arithmetic?"

"Hehe, I got a little distracted, I'll go help Aly now."

"Damn straight you will, there's a whole truckload to sort," He says in a jokey tone, well he tries to, it comes across a little gruff.

Don't get me wrong, he's an awesome dad he's just… slightly _too_ into sorting grain, he considers it a work of art. Me? I consider it tedious and boring, we have our differences.

I stride out to the shed, Aly's in there already, sweeping. She doesn't do any of the actual work, I didn't start till' I was reaping age _and_ after I went through serious grain-sorting training, Dad made us do classes on that. They were the worst.

Tomorrow is reaping day, this year I'm going to keep a really close eye on every single tribute. Who knows who'll win…? No one, that's the point. I'll even pay attention to the tributes that die in the bloodbath, they might have imaginative tactics that they just never get around to using.

"Slacker," Aly mutters under breath.

"I love you too," I reply. And it's true, sometimes she can be a pain but most of the time she's not that bad. We make quite the sisters apparently.

I sit down at the desk and pull over a sack of grain. It's 12:00, I'll work until 6:00 and then I can go hang with Persephone.

'Let's get this over with,' I think as I sort, staring up at the grey sky… Grey? The horizon is covered with thick smoke, "Fire," I whisper to myself.

"What?" Asks Aly.

"Fire! Run!" I call.

* * *

 _ **Elion Virchow – District 9 Male**_

 _ **Age: 18**_

 _ **"Just me, myself, and I; that's who it's always been."**_

* * *

I stare up at the ceiling dreamily, my mind still waking up. The sun's almost at its highest already, directly above me, shining through the rafters and the missing tiles. When it rains, I'm soaked, when it's hot, I'm steaming. God, it's annoying.

I roll over, facing towards the others, I've had enough of the sun shining in my eyes. Ander is sitting in the corner, a bong held to his face, puffing away. He looks at me and smiles. His eyes are glazed over, he's high as a kite.

"Sup dude, what took you so long," He asks, his head bobbing about, "You want a puff?"

He takes a big drag from it and exhales all around the room. Dante coughs, "Put that away Ander, you're gonna light the house on fire!"

I pull off my sheets and stand up. My wavy brown hair falls in tangles over my face, I sweep them to the side and slip into my clothes. Tomorrow's the reaping, I've gotta find Vaughn.

Ander's sitting in the corner giggling happily to himself. "Oi," I say, "Where's Vaughn?"

Ander smiles, "You try-hard, what are you gonna do? Sort some grain with him? How 'bout you hang loose mate, you're so tight strung, no wonder you don't get any chicks." When he realises he's the only one laughing (Which takes a good minute or two) he adds, "He went to do some work, he's probably out at the grain sheds."

I slip into my boots, one of the only things I own and head off towards the sheds. There's a massive complex in the western part of the District centre called 'the sheds', basically just row upon row of sheds, sheds for storage, sheds for rotten grain, sheds for transporting, sheds for sorting. There are only a few hundred people that work there full time but anyone can show up in their free hours and work. It's one of the only ways people like me can make a profit. That's where Vaughn will be, he's a workaholic, he has to be the only one of my friends that actually has a plan for the rest of his life.

I walk through the filthy streets of 9, full of mule shit and grain, represents the people quite well really…

An old lady sits in the corner of a shelter, she's well dressed for this part of town, and she's even got a fancy cane. She glares at me as I walk by. The bitch, who does she think she is?

When the streets get wider and there are more people I stick to the sidewalk. There are hardly any people here, most are stuck behind mountains of donkey shit or the donkeys themselves down on the road.

I get to the sheds quicker than normal. I spot Vaughn down near one of the tesserae sheds, packing a huge sack labelled 12. I strut over to him and swing my arm over his shoulder. "Sup Vaughn?" I ask him.

He turns around sharply, in 9 if someone touches you, you slap them, it's practically etiquette. His hand wavers when he sees it's me. "Oh, Elion. Glad you came, I've been waiting for one of you to pull your fingers out of your ass. There's a mountain of sacks to sort for 12, go grab one, all those impoverished bastards are taking out tesserae this year," He says with a cackle.

I smile, "Sorry mate, no ones pulling their fingers out just yet, I need to borrow some money." My tone practically reeks with confidence.

"Piss off! If you want dosh then do your fair share, I told you, there's a bunch of sacks with your name on them," He says, his tone slightly aggravated.

"Look, Vaughn, You would hate if anyone found out-" I start but he cuts me off.

"Fuck you, Elion!" Obviously, he didn't want anyone to know that…

"Everyone wants to, not everyone can," I say, smirking.

He pulls out a tenner and hands it to me. "Don't waste it."

I flash him my smile and stride out of the sheds.

It isn't long before I wind up on Sorghum Street, leaves cover the cobblestones, you can hardly see the piles of donkey excrement. This is one of the richer streets in town, where all the merchants and wealthy grain farmers live. It's depressing, though, all the houses are uniform, red brick and two stories… Boring.

I rush up the steps to the last house on the street. Nadia works here from 9:00 to 5:00, sweeping. She's the cleaner lady. Apart from her, the house is empty, no one else will find out about the money. I flatten it out and slide it under the door. Looking around, I rush off.

I probably shouldn't be helping her get by. She never helped me… I don't know why I give her money, I guess it's a kind of tradition. Twice a year, on Christmas day and the reapings. Which is tomorrow, if you haven't realised.

I used to live with Nadia, in a small house by the sheds. She never paid attention to me, I was just an object in her way. An expense. I'm sure she was glad when I left, she stopped having to pay for me. The one thing she must miss about me would have to be the tesserae…

I don't care, I'm happier now than I was at home. Ander, Vaughn, Dante, Warren, Tanner and Miller, they're my family, I don't need anyone else.

I haven't seen Nadia's face in 3 years, I doubt I'll ever see it again.

I stand on the hill, overlooking the District. In the west is the sheds, the south are the fields, the lakes beyond them. Further north than me is the victors village, the home of Priscilla and Felicity and Zachariah. Out east is where I live, where…

There's smoke billowing from the slums. And in the centre of it all…

"Fire…"

* * *

 _ **Felicity Miller – Victor of the 78th Hunger Games**_

 _ **Age: 43**_

* * *

I hover over the basin, knife raised in the air.

One cut, that's all it takes, my simple and terrible life over in one simple movement. Now is my final opportunity… I won't take another… I've failed 15 times before, it's now or never.

I stand naked in front of the mirror. My thighs are covered in cuts and slashes that ooze blood, I'm pushing myself towards death, the place I belong… I killed my brother after all.

Everyone else is outside. There's a fire down in the slums, everyone is out, no one can save me once the deed is done.

There's still the cameras staring down at me from above, studying my every move, but it'll be too late when they come to find me. I'll already be gone.

I stare at myself. I can see my brother in everything. Every little part of me, my nose, my eyes, my mouth… There all his, we were so alike, though he was smarter… And acted before me.

When I saw his body hit the molten rock I lost it, my mind went dead. It was a whole year later when I finally recovered. That's when I started. I failed the first time and then I was put on the watch list. Suicide attempts are common in victors and the Capitol wouldn't want their victors dropping like flies. Most believe we are happy folk, bathing in the riches of victory.

I don't deserve life, I took my brother's. He deserved to survive, he was smart _and_ capable, he would have made a hell of a victor.

His smarts were my downfalling. He realised too soon that only one of us could make it out alive.

I often wonder if I hadn't volunteered, would he still be alive today. He probably would have killed the Redfold siblings easily enough. Maybe I should have stayed in the safety of home.

The doctors always tell suicidal people to think of those that will miss you. How they would suffer from your selfishness. My brother didn't think of that when he threw himself from the basalt island. He didn't care for my suffering.

If I were to slit my wrist here and now, no one would miss me. My parents are long dead, killed by Snow as revenge for my attempted suicide in the arena. He wanted to make sure the Capitolites kept the view that we enjoyed life. When I broke down he told people they were tears of joy. Joy from my victory. At least he is dead now. I can take solace in that.

I'm a failure. 24 years of mentoring and not a single success. I am a danger to the tributes. I was an impressive victor, I had killed my fair share and I was a 'badass' with my scythe, the tributes always choose to be mentored by me. Zachariah won by hiding. That lucky duck only killed one tribute in his game. It's not a blessing to be mentored by me, it's a curse.

I bring the knife higher, poising it above my head, one tiny movement and the pain and suffering are over. I'm free.

Free. Freedom. Safety.

I bring the knife down, slashing my wrist horizontally, ending it all.

* * *

 _ **Fern Cherry – District 9 Female**_

 _ **Age: 13**_

 _ **"You can count on me to do my best… and more."**_

* * *

"Now, for an arithmetic lesson," says my papa, smiling as we load our livelihood into the truck. "Fire + District 9 = Total Destruction"

"Is that what's going to happen to the District?" Asks Aly.

The sun set an hour ago and the District is full of people screaming and crying, houses burning and people dying. The fire is claiming hundreds of lives.

"It'll be fine, don't worry darling," says papa soothingly. "The Capitol Helicopters will be here soon, they'll put it out." Once the truck is full we jump in and head off. We have the advantage of living out near the sheds, on the opposite side of the District than the fire. It won't spread here, people are mainly worried about it reaching the fields to the south. Now that would be a disaster. Grain shortages all over Panem.

At least that's what papa is trying to tell us, if that was the case, why are we loading all our grain into the truck? I think something bigger is going on.

We drive for the whole night, heading further east. There are outer townships in District 9, places far away and safe from the fire. We drive down the road that circumnavigates the Great Lakes.

District 9 was built around 5 massive lakes, in a spot where it was simple and quick to irrigate farmlands. They all have names, given to them long ago, before the dark days. The District's centre is just to the north of the northernmost lake, Lake Superior. Rye, which is where we are heading is just to the east of Lake Michigan, the southernmost lake.

I once tried to swim in one of the lakes. It's a long story but it ended with me drowning. I won't explain it all, you don't really care. I wanted to learn to swim, many arenas use massive lakes or ponds or oceans as part of their arena. Persephone (My best friend… Well) and I walked down to the lake. Persephone went in first, claiming she was braver. Big mistake. She started drowning so I dived in to save her, somehow I managed to drag her to shore, it was a difficult task. Then she ran away, leaving me to drown. Sure, she came back with adults that could help but by then I had already passed out. All I know is that if I'm reaped for the Hunger Games, I'm staying away from water.

We get to Rye at dawn on reaping day. We've been here before, to sell some grain that we had so lovingly sorted but it was never this busy. Seriously, there are people everywhere. Sleeping on the road even. It's the biggest town apart from the District centre, farming rye is obviously successful. Funnily enough, there are other townships, Wheat, Barley, Sorghum, Durum, Spelt, the settlers must have been bursting with imagination, the names are flawless!

Dad hands me a dress, simple really, plain brown but flowing. I consider making a joke about Mule shit but I'm sure dad wouldn't be impressed. "Thanks," I say, slipping it on behind a trash can in the alley that we commandeered.

"Oh!" says dad, jokily palming himself on the head, "I forgot to hand out these sheets!"

He rifles through the glovebox of the car and pulls out some paper. "Aly, you need to touch up on your District history and Fern… Arithmetic, I think," He says beaming brightly.

Aly giggles cheerfully but I just roll my eyes. It's just like him to come up with a lame joke like that.

My dad has home-schooled us since we were school age. He's very capable and a lot cheaper than the schools around the District.

We walk in silence down to the centre of the town. Aly dances around a bit, Rye is full of cats, I guess the residence like feline animals. I for one don't, I've seen what tiger mutts can do in the arena…

I get checked in by one of the peacekeepers, who stamps my bloody finger onto a page. Lovely…

Castor Sugar mounts the stage, looking sickening in all his blue attire, like seriously, has he ever heard of fashion. I'm not one to talk in my mule shit dress, but too much blue is a little… Just erk.

He mumbles something about cats before continuing on with the ceremony.

* * *

 _ **Castor Sugar – District 9 Escort**_

 _ **Age: 30**_

* * *

Oh my lord! Please tell me that is not a cat!

It stands with its butt in the air, mouth open and its hideous fangs showing. This terrifying sound is emanating from its mouth. Oh please! I'm too young to die.

I pounce around and hide behind Phox, my overweight bodyguard. "Eat him!" I wail, "He's tastier!"

He looks at me, the disdain showing in his eyes. "Sir, it's just a cat."

"JUST A CAT!" I holler. "Since when are those words EVER spoken in the same sentence? Have you lost your mind! It's going to eat us!"

"Get lost," he says kicking the cat in the belly. It whimpers and scurries off,

Serves it right, this District is dangerous. That's the third cat that's attempted to claim my life! And that's just today! Last Tuesday…

We walk onwards. We're in the small township of Rye, they've moved the reapings here for this year, there's a fire roaring through the centre of District 9. It's only an impromptu occasion, the tributes shall be reaped from the entire population (of age) of the District but only the people in the town will actually be present.

It's relaxing, all the stress of last few reapings are turning my hair grey! I won't have to pose sexily for the cameras, I can just announce the names from this tedious District and get back to the Capitol. Agnessa Sorelle invited me to a party! Can you believe that? Agnessa Sorelle!

Don't get me wrong, I have nothing against District 9, It's a huge step up from 12, where I started off my escorting career but it's still not my cup of tea. It's very dirty and full of… Feline demons!

There is a little mock stage in the centre of the minute town square. There are only about 300 citizens that showed up, it was only mandatory for citizens of the town or people staying nearby.

As I step up onto the stage, I watch the people's faces change as they adore my costume. I don't blame them, it truly is wonderful. A stunning blue suit that perfectly complements my azure ringlets and cerulean skin. AND Designed by Cinna Honeyman himself! Only the greatest fashion guru in all of Panem. After his success with the District 12 Tributes for the 74th Hunger Games, he was moved up to 1. And from there, it only gets better. Now he works for the President and such, Augustus Snow of course! No one else is getting that presidency. Successful leadership runs in the family.

There's only one victor on the stage, Priscilla Durum, the stunning hottie of District 9. She smiles and shakes my hand as I mount the stage. She apologises for the absences of the other victors, who were held back by the fire.

I rush through the formalities, I know Proteus is watching carefully, secretly deciding who'll be next year's escorts but he has to fall for my stunning bod, who couldn't?

"Ladies first!" I announce with a flick of my hair, my perfect voice resounding around this tiny square.

I stick my hand into the bowl and snatch up a name. I'm no fool, I know what the games do to people, I've mentored for 8 years and managed to bring home one victor. I know how things work. I used to be under the illusion of the games, believing they were glorious and it was an honour to be in them. But now I am disillusioned, I see clearly, the people reaped suffer, they lose everything, for the enjoyment of the Capitol.

I kept the job to help these tributes, guide them to safety if I can. Okay, that's a lie, I also like the way it boosts my status. Like I said, AGNESSA SORELLE invited me to a party! YAY.

"Fern Cherry," I chirp. What a _creative_ name, I think with distaste. People in the Districts have no idea how to name their children. With a beautiful last name like Cherry, you should go for something sweeter… OH! What about Castor? Castor Cherry, now that truly is perfect… Except Fern's a girl, I'll have to work on that.

A tiny girl with slightly darker skin standing in the 13-year-old section starts growling. What does she think she is? An animal? Then she starts stomping her feet, this girl has serious anger management problems.

It takes a good 10 minutes for her to come up to the stage. The peacekeepers threaten her and there's a lengthy discussion involving lots of colourful words and one of the peacekeepers getting kicked between the legs… Ouch. Eventually, one of them slings her over their shoulder like a sack of flour and carries her up.

She says some stuff into the microphone, there is definitely a few profanities, I'm not really paying attention. I'm considering whether this will gain her sponsors or lose them, I guess it depends whether this year's sponsors like them some spicy rebellion.

After she calms down I march over to the male bowl. "Elion Virchow!" I say.

A petite lady wails but no one steps forward. "Elion Virchow, does anyone know an Elion Virchow aged 18?" I ask.

Still no one.

Priscilla walks up to me, smiling dumbly. "Castor, he's probably at the fire. They needed everyone's help they could get," She says sweetly.

"Oh… Of course," I say "Send for him right away, please."

I watch as a handful of peacekeepers jump into the tray of a Ute and drive off.

"District 9! Your tributes! Fern Cherry and Elion Virchow," I holler, wishing the rest of the district well.

I swing my arm over the tiny girl's shoulder and escort her offstage. "Now," I say "Do you have anyone you'd like to say goodbye to?"

"Yes please, my Papa and sister if that's okay," she says flashing me a dazzling smile.

Well, the last thing I expected from this tribute was for her to prim and proper.

* * *

 _ **Elion Virchow – District 9 Male**_

 _ **Age: 18**_

 _ **"Just me, myself, and I; that's who it's always been."**_

* * *

I run down the ashy streets, it's been 12 hours since the fire started and we haven't made any progress. I wouldn't be helping out, being nice and helpful just isn't my thing, but I was forced. 'And so it was decreed, every man over the age of 18 must help… blah, blah, blah'

Someone hands me a bucket of water and directs me towards the south. Most of the efforts are going towards making sure the grain fields don't catch on fire, which would ultimately end with the end of District 9, well at least as a grain District.

I haven't seen any of my 'roommates' but I'm sure their fine. There's one thing that keeps coming into my mind, though. Just a throw away sentence that Dante said 'Put that away Ander, you're gonna light the house on fire!' Now if this was a bong fire… Just wow.

There's talk about an arsonist, someone depressed or suicidal, wanting to go out with a bang. What an asshole, at least 300 lives have been claimed ALREADY by this fire. I walk slowly down the alleyway, honestly, I wouldn't care if the whole District burnt down. It's never felt like home. The only time I've felt at home is with Ander and Vaughn and others wanderers like use, and that's hardly a representation of our District. "Mule shit and grain," I mutter… "Mule shit and grain."

"Oi!" Calls a voice, "Get to work you slacker!"

I turn around, there's a man at the end of the alleyway, a peacekeeper, wielding a poker. The electrified sticks that they use to bring people into line. I've seen them in action.

I flash my smile at him, "Fuck off!"

He screws his face up in disgust and flicks the switch on his poker. its like no one has ever been disrespectful to him. Welcome to the real world.

I could probably take him down if I wanted too, but that would bring all sorts of trouble and I'm not exactly in the mood for a fight.

I flip him the bird and rush down the alleyway, I throw my bucket to the side and the water sloshes out, dampening a pile of excrement, lovely.

He doesn't catch up, he probably doesn't care, I'm just one hooligan, there's thousands of others out there.

I sit down on a park bench, the fire roars in front of me and there are people rushing around with buckets of water. A few have hoses out spraying water onto the flames, failing badly to cease the destruction. The building directly in front of me is undetectable, it's been almost completely consumed by the fire. If it weren't for the fact I knew where I was, I wouldn't care about this building. But I do know where I am and I do know what the building is and I do care about it… And I want it to burn!

It's school…

I haven't been here since I was 10, when I was more or less expelled. It was probably for the better, I was what they refer to in the upper parts of our District as a 'trouble child'. Down here in the slums, I'm just a regular asshole.

At school I was always in fights. It was never my fault, honestly, it never was, people were just drawn to me. I don't blame them, I am quite sexy. Whenever I fought, it was always in defence. People that knew about my family or my childhood, they were threats. Since I'm a bigger kid, I was always blamed and I'm sure some of you can relate to this. I caused more damage than others.

I'd never admit this out loud, but I do everything for a reason. I'm not illogical or rash. My moves are planned and smart. Even then I knew what I was doing. Nadia was dismissive and I needed attention.

The things people do for attention… and mine were never good.

I look up from my memories, shit. I'm surrounded.

Peering around, there's about a dozen peacekeepers, armed to the teeth! I hope this isn't about the guy in the alley, this is what I call… Overkill. "Guys! What's up?" I say cheerfully, "No need for the weapons, we're all friends here!"

"Asshole," one of them says, before jabbing his poker into my gut.

BZZT! ZAP! POW! BZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZzzzzzzzzzzzzz... ... ...

* * *

My eyes are fixated on the cracking wallpaper in front of me when the door creaks open. A visitor? Now, colour me surprised! This was the last thing I expected. Well, I guess they might have notified Ander or Vaughn.

I swivel around, the citizens of Rye are most pleasing, I got a swivel chair, a nice bed, heck, I even got free food! The only downside is that I'm going into the Hunger Games, but hey! Them's the breaks.

It's a lady…

…

…

"Nadia?" I whisper cautiously.

She runs at me and flings herself into my lap. I should be yelling at her, screaming bloody murder but something, something is holding me back. "What…" I whisper.

"They broadcasted it, just your old school photo, in place of the reapings, which obviously couldn't happen," She's rushing her speech, it comes out clumsily, like someone with a speech impediment.

"You have to come home for me, I'm sorry I was such a bad mum, I just wasn't ready!" Somethings telling me to trust her, another part… well it still wants to scream bloody murder.

No, this is wrong. She doesn't deserve me, she's a useless, waste-of-space bitch. Ha! I'll trip her up. "My father," I say softly, very unlike the normal me, "Who was he?"

"Oh… your father… well. I don't think this is the time, when you come back and we become a family, then, and only then will we discuss it," she says. It's been what, 3 minutes and she's already bossing me around. I'm a grown man for crying out loud.

"Nadia…" I whisper.

"Oh, Elion! Please call me mum!"

I untangle myself from her grasp and stand up.

"No… I don't think I'm ready for that."

She doesn't deserve this. She doesn't deserve me. She's got one thing right, I sure as hell am coming home but the chance that I'll be living with her is smaller than a snowball's chance in hell.

* * *

 **Wow, I'm not sure if I can express how much I love Elion. I know it's a little unfair to the other tributes but I think he's the best so far. I like Fern as well but Elion is just so… awesome, in an unconventional way.**

 **What do you reckon? Who do you prefer? Fern or Elion?**

 **This chapter would have been up yesterday but I had to rewrite Elion's second POV... It just wasn't working.**

 **I was legitimately going to title this chapter 'Mule Shit and Grain' but I wasn't sure… I think 'Fire! Run!' is more acceptable but if you think I should change it, make sure you let me know :D**

 **Remember! Go check out my story 'A Brief History of the Golden Period' if you haven't already. AND John Wilde's 'Lawless', which will definitely get your creative juices slippery. Now that, sounds disturbing.**

 **Until Next Time :D**


	7. D3 - What is normal, anyway?

**Sorry for the late update, I was busy with schoolwork and stuff like that. I'm not particularly happy with how this chapter turned out but I hope you guys like it, make sure to comment your thoughts.**

 **The praise for these two amazing tributes should be directed towards EthanW32 and shirapp, thanks for both of these guys, they rock!**

 **There is an important Authors Note at the bottom of this to do with the sponsorship system, everyone's opinion matters so make sure you check it out!**

 **The Capitol citizen POV for this chapter is Althea Redpath, a Capitol scientist who works alongside the gamemakers, creating mutts. Veeto Ingus is her boyfriend, one of the many presidential candidates and he was introduced briefly in the first prologue. Her POV provides a little snippet of insight into his personality as well as a look at some of the mutts the 103rd will have to offer.**

 **Enjoy!**

 **(Yes, that's a command)**

* * *

 _ **Ophelia "Lia" White – District 3 Female**_

 _ **Age: 16**_

 _ **"In the battle of Brains Vs. Brawns there is never a clear winner."**_

* * *

"Daniel White. Please report to the head office, we are ready for your presentation." The robotic voice is projected around the complex. I look up from my book, 'The Great Gatsby' and scan the room.

To anyone else the room would appear bare. There are no obvious speakers or cameras in the room but under careful inspection, you can see a lot more. There are five minuscule cameras, about the size of an apricot seed, scattered around the room. You can only see them if you're looking, and no one is, they don't care. As for the sound, that's coming from the cameras as well, which kind of defeats the point of secrecy.

My father stands up, holding his briefcase. I'm not allowed to go in, only the inventors are allowed to be present, I'm here for moral support. He smiles weakly at me and ruffles my hair. "I'll be right back, okay?" He says as if I'm worried. He's the one that's worried, his palms are clammy, his eyes aren't focusing and he's shaking slightly.

I smile at him and shake my head. As he walks off I return to the Ancient American world of Jay Gatsby.

Daniel, that's my father, is an inventor, he works with a team of other inventors who are all invested in the same branch. Media. At the moment he's displaying last year's effort and hard work, twelve entire months of consideration and creativity. Somehow he managed to concentrate entire terabytes of data into minuscule packages. ' _Wow, that's exciting,'_ you're probably thinking. But you're wrong, _it is_ exciting, this means people can broadcast and distribute massive files in seconds, milliseconds. It's an impressive feat.

So why's he worried? Well, it's not that his invention is bad or a waste of time, his chance of being accepted is minute. When he was younger he was an apprentice to Beetee Latier, Three's greatest inventor who was… Executed recently. It's not public information, to everyone else he died of a heart-attack but I know the truth. Confidential Information was found in his possession and he was accused of treason. My father barely escaped with his life, he's on probation, the Capitol are watching him. So people making investments aren't going to risk their chances on him. It's the ugly truth.

I'm up to the part where Nick is invited to Mr. Gatsby's fancy doo, when I feel the warmth of a human body replace the cold air beside me. I look up, honestly, I'd rather read than socialise… People skills aren't exactly my forte.

Liam. No complex socialising is required. Lucky me. "How fares thee?" He asks, his dazzling smile chiselled into his handsome face. I rest my head on his shoulder and his arm lounges around mine. His lazy brown hair falls in curls tickling my head. Next to my straight-blonde-hair-simple-features face, he must look like a supermodel.

"I'm not sure. Dad's super stressed, I'm worried for him, I guess. He deserves to be happy."

I can feel Liam nodding against my forehead. "Yeah, he does. Your dads a great man. I guess I'm too late then, Mum sent me for moral support." Liam's parents both work alongside my father. He's the boss of the program but everyone needs assistants. That's how Liam and I met.

"I tried, but he just discarded all my efforts. He's to wound up. It'll all be over soon enough," I say, attempting to lighten the mood.

"Yeah, but then there're the reapings tomorrow," says Liam.

Right. I try to brush it off with a giggle, "Dad isn't going to get reaped?" I say.

He untangles himself and props his body up on his elbow, which is leaning against the back of the chair. His emerald green eyes stare at me as he talks. He's telling me it's a serious matter, which I shouldn't joke about. Honestly, I'd rather read Gatsby, all this serious nonsense is frustrating me.

I lean forward and press my lips against his. He's shocked at first, but then he gets into it. I feel his long eyelashes flutter against mine. He was probably annoyed at my interrupting him but I don't think he's going to complain now.

"Get a room." Says someone, malice clear in their voice. We break apart and I look up. Ashland Grigsby, Worlds number one bitch stands before me, camera in hand. I glare at her, my light blue eyes trying to destroy her.

I'm not normally rude but this girl is disgusting. She makes it her hobby to ruin other people's lives. Her dad is an inventor like mine. No. That would be a lie. Harwood Grigsby is nothing like my father. That man is terrible, though I have to admit he is a lot more successful than my father. It's like in books, the good guys never get the happily ever after, at least until the end of the story. Hopefully, that's how my life will turn out.

"Sorry," says Liam, "Are you jealous? Don't worry there's enough of me to share around." He lunges forward, smiling.

She shrieks and swats him away. "Eek! Why would I want some lame excuse like you to kiss me? ICK!"

"Because I'm incredibly sexy." I raise my eyebrows at this. Oh well, I'll let him have some fun. It's not like he is actually into Ashland.

"Thot," she says, smiling. Ashland finds enjoyment in insults. Thot happens to be a particular favourite of hers, I hear it at least twice a day.

She flicks her hair and sachets out of the building, probably to go call someone else a thot. Idiot.

When the door closes behind her Liam and I crack up laughing. I have to admit, Ashland can be quite funny. Unintentionally, sure, but it's still deadly hilarious.

The Great Gatsby lies on the floor, open at the spine. I reach down to grab it and when I come back up, book in hand, I see my father walking down the hallway.

"I did it!" He calls, "YES!"

He runs into my arms and we twirl around on the spot, jumping with joy. I have to admit I am surprised, pleasantly surprised.

I guess there are decent people in the world after all.

* * *

 _ **Gadge Lotus – District 3 Male**_

 _ **Age: 18**_

 _ **"I'm crazy and I don't pretend to be anything else."**_

* * *

I sit cross-legged in front of the washing machine. Watching it rotate. I can see my sparkly blue shirt being flung around inside, soap colliding with its cotton strands. I watch as the pretty sequins fly off, the shirt said ' _soaking only, washing in machinery may cause damage_ '. I hate my pretty blue shirt. It's too sparkly, maybe it can tell me what it's like to be destroyed.

The threads pull apart, a bit of blue here, a sequin there. The inside of the washing machine looks so pretty.

I hear footsteps, someone's coming. No! They'll turn off the switch!

I stand up and run over to the door. The lock slides down easily and holds the door in place, it's not going anywhere. For now, it's just me, the washing machine and my pretty blue shirt.

I sit back down and close my eyes. I can hear the monsters banging on the door, their fists smashing around and rattling the bolts. The monsters want to eat me. I need to hide.

My hands pull my body forwards. One hand first, then the other, they pull me to safety. I jump into the washing basket, the garments cover me, keeping me warm. I sit in a ball, my hands consuming my knees which are huddled up against my chest.

It doesn't take long for me to relax. Once I can't hear the monsters, everything gets better. All I need is something shiny, like a crystal. I dig in my pants pocket and pull out a tiny chunk of polished steel. It's shiny, really, really shiny.

It slides into my mouth before I know it. I didn't want to eat it, it's my urge's fault, it just looked so damn tasty! I roll it around in my mouth, fondling it with my tongue, imagining District 1. Apparently, everything there is really shiny. That would be so nice.

I remember a time when someone else wore shiny clothes. A peacekeeper he was called. Apparently, he had to wear shiny clothes but I knew that was a lie. Only I'm allowed to wear shiny clothes. I had run at him and bashed him up. He hadn't seen me coming! Haha! What an idiot. They tied me up to a post and hit me with this strange stringy thing, they said I had broken the law (that means rules that you have to follow) but they were wrong. They should have hit the other guy, he was the one that broke the rules! Who did he think he was! Wearing shiny white uniforms. People need to learn the rules, shiny things are mine and only mine.

I remember a time when I didn't know the rules. I let everyone else have shiny things. But that wasn't my fault, I was only two, at least that's when I first remember knowing the law. We were out in town and all the people were driving shiny cars and I saw one in the middle and I wanted it and I ran towards it and I got it and I licked it and it tasted shiny. That was fun but apparently, that was what grandpa calls 'suicidal' but the person in the car was the suicidal one! He broke the law and it was my job to punish him.

A giggle escapes my mouth as I remember my favourite one. The time when I killed the two kids! Haha! That was a fun time.

I roll over in the basket, the shiny garments fall over me. I only wear shiny clothes but only if they're good. I hate ugly ones, like my pretty blue shirt.

I remember the time that I was in jail. That was a sad time for everyone. No one got to see me during that time. Luckily grandpa had the brain to bale me out. Now everyone is happy again, they have someone to make sure people follow the law!

The reason why I was in jail was silly. I was just running a little experiment and then the police came and arrested me! I didn't even get to check my hypothesis.

When I was twelve some people took me away to a thing called the academy. It's like school but they teach you how to kill people, Oh and what food you can and cannot eat and stuff like that. They said it was training for this big event where you get hungry or something, I'm not sure, that part always bored me to death.

Then one day we learnt about the dangers of the time-you-get-hungry thing. Apparently, you can die and stuff and they showed us how to find out if someone was dead by touching their neck with two fingers (I just licked them, it worked just as well). They also taught us that death is natural and there's nothing to worry about, everyone dies.

So I decided to run an experiment, they were teaching us this at school. You need an aim, a hypothesis, materials, subjects and you need to record your results. My aim was to find out what it was like to be dead and my hypothesis was that it would be boring, like sleeping but without shiny things to dream about. So I picked my candidates and I killed them. There are weapons available twenty-four seven at the academy. But then they arrested me for something called 'murder' even though the subjects were volunteers (Well…). And I never got my results, either. I never got to ask them what it's like to be dead.

Oh well, I guess I'll find out in the hungry thingy.

* * *

 _ **Althea Redpath – Capitol Scientist**_

 _ **Age: 28**_

* * *

"Darling! How did you forget to iron my clothes… Again!"

Seriously? Since when did ironing his clothes become my problem? "Oh, sorry Veet, I guess I was a little busy last night, Proteus invited me out to breakfast this morning, so I've got to go!" I reply. I know he's really busy with his campaign but the fact he treats me more like a maidservant than his fiancé is starting to get on my nerves. Besides, he could totally afford a maidservant, so what's his problem?

"You're going to breakfast with another man…" He says under his breath. But I can hear him, there's a wall between us but Veeto has never been known for his quiet tone.

I grit my teeth. "It's business, honey."

"So that's what you call it?" He retorts.

I step out of the bathroom, a comb jammed in my messy bun. "Veeto! What is your problem! Why are you so distrustful! I wouldn't cheat on you! Trust me," I say.

"It would be easier to believe if you'd have ironed my shirt," he says, smirking, acting like this is all just flirtatious banter. Why does he have to be so green? He's won anyway, manpower claims victory again. I attempt a fake giggle that no one sensible would ever believe. But Veeto is definitely not sensible. I'm not sure why, but he thinks that asking me to do him a chore makes me happy, idiot.

I flash a fake smile and grasp the iron. It only takes about three minutes but it feels like forever. The monotonous back and forth of the iron. We should pay people to do this kind of stuff.

Why do I live with him then? Money and fame, I guess. He is more or less the reason why I am where I am today, a scientist for the Hunger Games. I was just a blushing, naïve Capitolite when I met him, unaware of all the power struggles, betrayal, and drama of the upper-class citizens. We started dating, it wasn't long before I decided he wasn't the one for me but by then I had been educated. Veeto had links, he was President Coriolanus Snow's right-hand man and knew lots of official people. If I stuck with him, made him believe I loved him, then it would all be fine.

He took advantage of his connections with Dawn Angelica and got me an interview. I used my looks and manipulation to get Proteus Baron to accept me, it wasn't hard. And now I have it all, all I have to do is put up with my asshole fiancé when I'm at home and I can everything I ever desired. And if Veeto becomes President of this grand nation…

"See you later darling!" Veeto calls as he shuts the door behind him, pulling me from my thoughts. He's got a presidential rally today, he's not one of the higher profile candidates but he still has his bunch of ignorant adoring fans.

"Wait!" I call though it comes out more like a shriek, "You forgot your coffee."

He smiles at me as he comes back in. "Right, sorry Alty, I know how you love to mix me up a good cup of Luwak," he says happily, obviously flattered by my care for him. He's not exactly sensible but I'm pretty sure he sees right through my love for him, he just pretends not to.

I rush off to the kitchen and start to whip up the coffee. Luwak coffee is extremely expensive, it has to have passed through the digestive system of a mongoose, a species all but extinct. I personally find the idea of drinking coffee that may contain faecal matter quite horrifying, but whatever tickles your fancy.

As I pull the jug off of the machine I tip in a dash of… of flavouring. He'll never notice it, it's completely flavourless and while he thinks I go to extra effort to make him coffee every day, I'm actually slowly bringing upon his death, just like Celestia taught me to.

He hugs me quickly before rushing out the door. I have to say he is a _little_ bit cute when he's happy.

* * *

I sit in the café, sipping a cup of _Antoccino,_ some kind of coffee made with steamed milk. I consider myself quite the connoisseur, I've savoured many varieties of coffee in my time, I know my fair share.

This Antoccino isn't exactly top quality, the milk latte isn't quite steamed enough, leaving a so-so flavour, I'm not sure why Proteus chose this cheap café to hold an important rendezvous on this year's Hunger Games. There are much more impressive places, or he could've just seen me at work… He obviously doesn't want people to note our communication.

It takes a few minutes but eventually I spot Proteus coming towards the café, briefcase swinging cheerfully as he strolls along the sidewalk.

"Good day, Althea. How fares you?" Ooh! Chivalrous! Now, I've never seen this kind of attitude before.

"Fine, thank you," I say. I don't want to cut straight to business, so I try to latch onto his mood. "Why are you so happy today?"

"Ahh! Now, my dear, that's why I'm here." Damn, there goes that plan. I saw him eye me in a perverted way as he took his seat, so I'm fairly sure it's not that he isn't interested. After all, my goods are top quality, it's probably more likely his business is actually important.

Normally Proteus is shallow and treacherous, always trying to be in the right places at the right time, prepared to beat anyone to get where he wants and what he wants. He can be rude and angry but never have I ever seen him happy and excited, well at least where the general populous can see him.

Cheerfully, he pulls out his laptop, muttering something about flowers. He clicks on a few icons and then swivels the screen around so I can see it. Proteus looks different, his hair falls around his brow in a dark halo and his hollow cheeks smile with glee. "Here," he says, "I want you to make this."

I focus on the screen. At first, it doesn't make sense… but then I get it. It's genius, at least if I can pull it off. "Bugs?" I say, "Aren't they a bit… overused?"

"Yes. Quite. Plenty of Dawn's games included swarms of insects… but never anything quite like this. I'm going to take that idea and… revolutionise it, just like I did with the arena." Back at it again with the arena. Everyone thinks it was his idea, but I know Winchester Stocks is the one behind it. He treats it with such praise, it's hard to believe he could be so positive towards someone else's work.

My eyes glance down at the screen again. There's a diagram, containing six different types of bugs. They're all different in colour and they have a different description and name. Fear, Sorrow, Love, Happiness, Anger… Insanity. They look like a cross between a ladybug and some kind of spider.

"Yes… Yes, I think this is within my capabilities."

His face breaks into an even bigger smile. If that's possible. "Splendid!" He says. He digs around in his briefcase until he finds a thumb drive. "Here, this contains everything you need to know. I want them done before the parade. Got it?"

I nod. I never intended to be a major player in these games, but when you buy into something, there is never an easy way out.

* * *

 _ **Ophelia "Lia" White – District 3 Female**_

 _ **Age: 16**_

 _ **"In the battle of Brains Vs.** **Brawns** **there is never a clear winner."**_

* * *

"Honey," calls my mother, "Up. Now."

Already? I swear I fell asleep only moments ago… I must've been super tired after last night's celebrations.

Dad held quite the party last night, tonnes of people came over to celebrate his success with District 3's board of inventions. There was alcohol and I'm pretty sure I saw a kid smoking pot behind the shed out back. Contrary to popular belief, District 3 is quite the party place, I'm fairly certain we have the most alcoholics in the entirety of Panem, especially after what happened with Beetee and the decrease in the average income.

Beetee Latier's passing took its toll on the whole District.

I roll over, falling off my bed and onto the floor. Ouch. I'm not the biggest fan of parties so I just hid in my room the whole time, reading Gatsby, it's an awesome book and I definitely recommend it, you can't have my copy, though, I'm lending it to Liam, he has first dibs.

Untangling myself from my sheets, I waddle over to my wardrobe. Today is the day of the reapings, mum says you have to look 'nice' at the reapings. Personally, I don't see the point, it's not as if I'm going to get reaped.

I slide into a plain white t-shirt and pull on some fancy jeans. Mum won't exactly be pleased but I do not fuss, it's not as if anyone else is going to dress up fancily.

I douse my face in cold water and give it a bit of a scrub before walking downstairs.

My mother, Rachel, is the CEO of a software designing company, needless to say, she's a lot more successful than my father and she lets it be known that she's the main breadwinner. Dad doesn't care, he's too caught up in his inventions to worry about being the 'man' in the relationship, so it's a win-win for everyone. I guess you could call her smart, intellectual, apparently she's where I got my brains from. She's hardly motherly, though, I'm a lot closer to Dad than Mum, she's normally left for work by the time I wake up.

She cares a lot more about her work than about her only child, that's for sure.

"Hey, Mum. What's for breakfast?" I ask - a carefully chosen sentence to start off the day.

"Anything you like, Hon, it's an open pantry," she says with a smile. My mother is a small lady, only just taller than I am with the exact same blonde hair as me. She, however, cuts hers into a different style every month, whatever is considered a powerful haircut. At the moment its cut short into what's called a 'pixie cut'.

My face lights up into a grin, open pantry means hazelnut spread on croissants! I dash into the pantry and grasp the packet of croissants, there's two left. Perfect. I butter them quickly and slap some hazelnut spread on them before crunching into them, savouring the buttery goodness.

"Good morning Lia," says my Dad as he comes down the stairs. He's struggling with his tie, tying a tie is beyond his capabilities, that's mum's kind of thing.

He ruffles my hair. "Nice get-up."

"Seriously?" Asks Mum, "What happened to that cute yellow dress?"

"Sorry mum, I forgot," I chirp with a smile. "Thanks for the breakfast but I've got to dash if I want to get to the reapings on time."

I pick up my purse as I leave the building, Gatsby is inside it (For Liam) as well as another book, 'A Brave New World' by Aldous Huxley, you never know when you'll have a boredom emergency.

"Took you time!" says Ashley as I open the door.

I jump. She startled me. Seeing my shock she doubles over, laughing.

Let's make this clear. Ashley Adams is nothing like Ashland Grigsby, the similarities end at the first name. Ashley is a sweet and loveable redhead whereas Ashland… Well, you've already met her.

My parents make it their hobby to help out the District. Despite my father's affiliation with Beetee, we weren't as affected as others by the decreased income. Mum's career paid for it all. So they donate any surplus money to local families that are struggling through this hard time. That's how I met Ashley, she hated me at first, saying I was only nice to her because she was a 'charity case' but eventually we grew closer.

I'm not one of those people that have loads of friends. If someone likes me, then cool, I've got a friend but if they don't, oh well. I don't make it my hobby to go out and search for friends, I'm not that desperate, I've got my books, that's all I need.

"Sorry," I say, "I woke up literally two minutes ago."

"Oooh! Where you up late with Liam?" She says playfully, flashing me a wink.

I shake my head at her. "It's not like that Ashley. We're 16."

"Old enough, and remember if he ever does anything to hurt you I'll tear him a new one. Okay?" She says. I've never quite understood this side of Ashley, normally she's an average sweet girl but sometimes she gets super protective. And she's not a fan of my relationship with Liam, according to her he's a 'hot-head' and - trust me on this - that's not what it sounds like.

Ashley's the kind of girl you'd call a firecracker, she openly detests the Capitol, she lets everyone know it, even the peacekeepers. Dynamic? That's another word you could use to describe her.

It's raining as we check in - the peacekeeper stamps our bloody fingers onto a slip of paper – and head towards the sixteen-year-old girl's section.

I glance over at Liam as we take our place. He stands stock still, facing the stage, he's worried about being reaped, he has a lot of tesserae in this year.

As we wait, the girls surrounding me begin idle chit-chat so I grab out 'A Brave New World' and start reading. I lean my head over it so that it doesnt become sodden from the dismal downpour.

Eventually, Romina May takes the stage (She's our escort) along with Marissa and Anjin, the two mentors for this year.

Romina's dress is dizzying… I feel like I'm about to faint.

* * *

 _ **Romina May – District 3 Escort**_

 _ **Age: 41**_

* * *

I'm a skilled escort.

I really am, no one is better at this job than me. No one.

19 years in the business and I've brought home two victors. Only career Districts and 10 have better ratios than that, so I must be good.

It's raining at the moment, what an unpleasant day for the 103rd reapings. I mean, for our District, there have been worse reapings, one year a cyclone tore through the District right as I announced the tribute's name. Unfortunately, the chosen tribute died in the cyclone and we had to redraw, needless to say, President Coriolanus Snow wasn't happy.

He's dead now, I don't have to worry about him.

Being a successful escort, it's all about how you treat your tributes. If you're too nice they start to like you and then you start to like them and all the entanglements become too much. Trust me, I know. So you have to keep them at arm's length. That is the only way of bringing a tribute home successfully.

You have to be strict and stern, if they get out of line you have to show them who's boss. Though not too harsh, that's when the younger tributes get scared and are worried about asking for help. 19 years in the business and I have that mastered, I am neither too harsh nor too kind to them (Though they may tell you different).

"Rom," says my bodyguard, "Head Peacekeeper Sentius is ready."

"Umbrella," I say my voice showing no emotion. My bodyguard is below me, he is an unnecessary complication to my job, he's only here because some stupid rebels have been attacking the escorts in District 5. Idiots, what kind of person thinks they can take down the Capitol? It's all on the shoulders of Coriolanus Snow and his stupid offspring. We need someone capable in charge, like Dawn for example.

Gerard – That's my insignificant bodyguard's name – passes me an umbrella. It's huge with a floral decoration that perfectly complements my superb attire. I'm wearing a beautiful and gorgeous Evangeline blouse, part pirate, part romantic neo-Victorian explorer and covered in intricate patterns. It's simply stunning really, I just love the fashions of the past, people had amazing ideas back then

Gerard and I walk in silence down the cement pathways leading to the justice building. Rain pitter-patters on my umbrella and drips elegantly off it, heading in multiple directions and keeping the dirty rain off my sterling figure.

Fortunately, the stage out the front of the Justice building is covered, though the citizens of three have to wait in the dismal rain.

I'm quick to the punch, I know the people in the Capitol want to know which tributes they will see this year and I'm not one to go against other people's advice.

I feel no remorse as I pull out the male tribute's name, straight after the brief formalities. I love my job and the Hunger Games are the reason it exists. This boy should be honoured.

"Miles Wattkinson!" I announce.

A muscular boy in the seventeen-year-old section steps forward. He doesn't appear exactly pleased with this outcome, though I'm sure he's glad to be out of the rain. He glares as he takes the stage, I despise tributes like that. Always trying to make the worst out of things, behaviour is important, if I want this boy to go far he has to learn to behave.

I notice Anjin exchange a brief smile with Marissa. They're the two mentor's for this year, I brought Anjin home but Marissa was before my time. She won at twelve years old, now that is an impressive feat. Anjin nods, I assume he's going to mentor Miles.

"Any volunteers?" I ask. It's a hopeless venture, we haven't had any volunteers in the past few years.

A strange giggling sound erupts from the crowd and a boy runs forward from the eighteen-year-old section. He looks insane, he's giggling and laughing, he's all over the place and his baby blue shirt is doused in rain, it hangs from his figure. He looks like a creature from a nightmare.

"I VOLUNTEER AS THINGY!" He declares as he sprints up the steps and onto the stage. I gesture the microphone towards him, hoping to catch his vibe, why did he volunteer? But he just snatches it from my grasp (How rude) and sticks the head of it into his mouth.

The sound of his wet tongue slapping against it boom around the square. You can hear a deep gurgling sound coming from his throat and some muttered words about ice-cream.

Miles leaps off the stage, relief clear on his face. I have to say, now that I think about it, Miles would have been a better option.

It takes a while but eventually some peacekeepers manage to wrench the microphone from the insane boy's hand and pin him down. He lies on the floor with two peacekeepers straddling him and a roll of cloth in his mouth.

This boy's attitude is disgusting, he has absolutely no manners, hopefully, I can straighten him up during the trip to the Capitol. Otherwise, he won't have any sponsors. Drama. That's the only thing going for him, that and being insane which usually draws in some wacky sponsors.

After a minute everyone calms down (The only exception being a hunchbacked old man who is weeping down in the viewers section, though you can hardly tell, the rain is almost covering it up. How could anyone mourn an insane boy like that?)

"Well!" I holler, "That, was exciting!"

A few people utter some weak laughs, not exactly an amazing response.

"Now, time to find out which female tribute shall fight for District three's honour in the 103rd Annual Hunger Games!" I strut over to the female bowl, my splendid Evangeline blouse bouncing along with my footsteps.

"Ophelia White!" I announce.

I peruse the crowd of girls. They're all unimpressive, at least with the rain. Most of them wear dull clothing and hold an emotionless look on their face. Beetee Latier's death didn't exactly affect our District in a positive way. The average income has dropped substantially.

A girl in the sixteen-year-old section steps forward, a brave look on her face. She looks fairly simple, average for this District. She has plain blonde hair that goes down just past her shoulders and then curves inwards, giving her an intellectual look. Her eyes are a watery blue, not very outstanding in the cosmetic department, hopefully she has at least half a brain. She's small in size, probably about 5'5" and she boasts a little bit of muscle on her arms.

She seems okay, better than the boy at least. Marissa and I can work with her, who knows, we might have a victor this year!"

I hand her the microphone and she holds it between two fingers, it still has slobber dripping off it from that disgusting boy. "Ophelia White," she says, "I've got brains, so don't count me out just yet."

A few people clap and the boy on the ground starts to moan. A long guttural sound.

Damn, this is going to be a long month.

* * *

 _ **Gadge** **Lotus – District 3 Male**_

 _ **Age: 18**_

 _ **"I'm crazy and I don't pretend to be anything else."**_

* * *

"Gadge!" He cries. "Why did you do that? Was it something I did, something I said?"

I giggle to myself, what a fool. My pops actually thinks I did this for him. No, this decision was completely mine and it was a good decision. That shiny ice-cream cone tasted delicious!

This room is amazing, there are lots of shiny things, a chandelier is hanging from the roof, if only I could touch it and lick it. I think it would taste really good, probably even better than the shiny ice-cream cone. I look down at my body, I'm wearing a shiny purple shirt, decorated with sequins that looks really swell with my dark wash jeans. And my feet, they're really big, pops once said that they were the biggest he's ever seen. And that was a nice thing to say, so I always leave my feet out of my shoes, so that everyone can see how big they are.

My bare feet feel really nice when I rub them through the fluffy carpet. This place is nicer than the laundry room!

"Don't worry pops, I'll be back soon!" I say, hoping to make him see clearly but he just shakes his head.

"Gadge, do you understand what you've gotten yourself into," he asks, "do you even have a strategy.

I giggle to myself again, remembering the flavour of that shiny ice-cream cone/microphone. "Of course!"

He looks at me with his eyebrows raised. He always says I'm 'impulsive', (whatever that means) and that I don't think before I act. He's clearly surprised that I actually have a plan. "Well," he says, "Colour me surprised. What is it?"

"If it's tasty, eat it. If it's moving, kill it. If it looks fun, it's fun and if it's shiny, lick it," I say, beaming at him. Now he has to be proud, I'm going to be a victor.

He looks at me - dumbfounded. He shakes his head. "How on earth did I end up with you?"

"My parents went missing when I was five and you said –" I begin but he cuts me off.

"Son. That's what you call a rhetorical question, you don't answer it. You're going to have to learn fast if you want to come home." He says.

I glare at him. "And that's what you call interrupting people. It's rude."

The smallest hint of a smile starts to creep across his face. "I'll miss you," he says.

God. I hate soppy, sad situations. I know! "Hey, pops. Guess what?" I ask him.

"What?"

"I got to lick the ice-cream cone!"

We sit there in silence for a while, he just stares at the ground.

"Gadge, do you have a token?" He asks.

"Oh. Yes, pops, I got it this morning," I say. I dig around in my pocket for a bit until I find it. It's kind of slippery but it's the best I could do. "Your teeth! See? I stole them from your bedside table, they're really shiny. Don't you think?"

* * *

 **There you go!**

 **Who'd you like better? Ophelia or Gadge?**

 **What did you think of Romina?**

 **What about Althea?**

 **The mutts?**

 **Ice-cream cone rhymes with microphone... XD**

 **I hope Ophelia didn't seem like too much of a Mary-Sue, she wasn't meant too.**

 **I hope this chapter didn't seem more oriented around Althea and Romina than Gadge and Ophelia, that was a mistake.**

 **What District do you guys think I should do next? I'm leaning towards District 5 because I have a little bit of an inspiration for it but I'll definitely take your opinions into consideration.**

 **Remember, reviewing makes your tributes have less chance of being a bloodbath.**

 **Okay, so, here's the important authors note.**

 **MAKE SURE YOU READ THIS PLEASE!**

 **At the start of the story, I decided to do a sponsorship program with readers being awarded points for certain things as well as them being able to buy things for the tributes. I've been recently alerted that this might not have been the greatest idea for many reasons. 1, it kind of makes me relinquish control of the tributes a little more than I should. 2, keeping a record of everyone's points is a challenge in its own right, originally I didn't think** **this many people would be interested in Campaign. 3, including sponsorship items in my story, will be difficult. Making sure they get them at the right time and if I am halfway through a chapter when I get the sponsorship it will make it extremely difficult to add it to the storyline and I may have to rewrite entire chapters. There are some benefits, however, it gets the readers more involved in the story and may make for greater excitement in the story as well as interesting plot twists.**

 **Don't worry, this doesn't mean I am cancelling it, at least not yet. The sponsorship program may still be part of the story. What I want is your opinions, should I keep it or is it okay if I get rid of it? Will anyone be really annoyed if I drop it completely? So, I'll put a poll up on my profile, make sure you check that out. Also, make sure you include your opinion in your review.**

 **#DORYFORPRESIDENT**

 **Until Next Time! :D**


	8. D5 - Perfection?

**It's been quite a wait. My mini hiatus is over now, hopefully you can expect regular updates from now on... Hopefully :D**

 **So, I know my last chapter wasn't the greatest - I found it a little hard to write both of those characters - but I don't think it deserved the silent response it received. Thankyou to everyone who reviewed it, if you havent read it yet, you should go check it out. Remember, the more you review the longer your tribute will last (probably) plus the quicker I'll update. Reviews are my main motivation.**

 **This chapter was a joy to write, I absolutely adore both of these tributes even though one of them is a bit of an arsehole. Thanks for these two amazing characters should be directed towards RueThisDay and for the lovely Savannah you should thank HoppsHungerFan. All of the tribbies I've received are amazing!**

 **Kaine's POV's are written in third person so technically they aren't 'Point of Views' but I felt this was the easiest and most effective way of writing him.**

 **So, here it is. Hope you enjoy! :D**

* * *

 _ **Eliza Lirae – District 5 Female**_

 _ **Age: 17**_

 _ **"Who, me?"**_

* * *

I sit on a bench in the park outside the school. The clouds fly overhead, their fluffy white pillows drifting silently in the wind. It's a bright sunny day in District 5, with the sun out nice and high and the sky a crystal blue blanket.

Imagine what it would be like to bounce on a cloud, so fluffy, so light, peaceful and calm. No disturbances, no one to judge you. I wish I could live on the clouds.

A sudden shrill sound disrupts my daydream, schools ended for the day and the students begin to flood out.

Mya Hart and her group of… friends. Come out first. They're giggling and pointing over at a group of boys passing a ball down on the oval. I can hear the muffled words they share. I've been listening to these girls for a week or two now, and I've learned quite a lot.

Mya – I guess she's the leader of the pack – is the daughter of one of District 5's victors and she has a troublesome home life. Her father had something terrible happen to him in the arena and didn't really deal with it in the best possible way, turning to drugs and alcohol. And abuse, if I've heard correctly. She has an age long vendetta against a certain boy is constantly in her face. She's a bitch. Everyone says it, even her friends when she's not paying attention, back-stabbing, that's what Nova calls it.

Her closest friends aren't exactly very kind. They're no better than her. One of them said that they'd got paid to sleep with some guy and other claimed they lost their virginity before they were even sexually able.

I guess you'd call this kind of stuff gossip and say I'm nosy, but it's not as if I'm going to pass it on.

Mya turns to look at me as she walks past. She glares at me and mimes spitting at me, throat sound an all. I don't like it when people judge me, they hardly know who I am. They should wait until they truly understand me before forming an opinion.

My face lights up into a smile as she walks past. Unlike most of the people that attend school in the afternoons, I actually care about what other people think about me.

I only attend school in the afternoon. It's the only time it's free, the only time people like… like I can afford to go. Attending during the actual hours is only for people whose parents work full-time or somehow got lucky and own an electrical organization. Not for people who are one of ten living children or those whose parents can't hold a proper. Not for people who played on the streets as they grew up. Not for people like me.

We wait a few minutes until it seems like the grounds have cleared and then the few hundred of us who had been loitering began to file in. Hoping to be educated, so we could get a job or start a business, so we could break the eternal cycle our families are trapped in. But our hope is pointless. I've attended every day for the last seven years and almost every time they've just force-fed us Capitol propaganda.

I walk by myself. As always.

No, I mean, it hasn't always been like this. I used to be popular enough, at least as much as any other kid. I had loads of friends and they cared about me as well, they weren't like Mya's friends, no, these were real. What happened to them, you ask? He. He happened. He pulled me away from my friends and my life but at least I have one friend…

"Boo!" She yells, grasping me by the shoulders and shaking me.

I yelp in shock before barrelling over into a fit of laughter.

Nova's been my best friend for as long as I can remember. My only friend since about last year. When he tried to break all my outside connections, she held on. I guess you could call her a fighter. She's of Indian ethnicity (One of the only things I've ever learned that wasn't about history) with skin that's a caramel-like shade of brown. She's got this really short brown hair and eyes to match.

"Gotcha!" She says, her face alight with glee.

I smile. I'm about to say something but then she interrupts – "What are you doing after school?"

"Studying, I guess."

"Studying about what? The Capitol? Surely you know enough about that already," she says, arms crossed and one eyebrow cocked. I've always wanted to do that, cock an eyebrow, but whenever I try I just look like an idiot so I don't do it anymore, I don't want people thinking I'm an idiot.

"Sure," I say, "Surely there's more to learn about the origins of the Snow family." This is a joke. The number of times we've learned about the Snow family is phenomenal, especially after Coriolanus died. I guess it's kind of an inside joke.

"Pffft," says Nova, "Now you're just stalling."

Her face lights up, a smile cutting itself across her face, she always does this when she has an idea. "Let's skip."

I can't help but laugh at that. "Nova. Not everyone is as wise as you. I actually want to learn, I wouldn't show if I didn't want to."

Nova can attend school during the actual hours – her parents can afford it – but she chooses afternoons instead, so her parents make sure she actually attends. Whereas for me, it's completely by choice.

"Come on!" She says grabbing my hand and pulling my reluctant body back out the school gates.

"Oi!" calls someone from across the schoolyard. For a second I think I'm busted but then I remember we're not doing anything wrong. It's just Termo – one of _his_ friends – running up the hill towards us.

"Someone told me to deliver this to you," he says, a shy smile crossing his face – we've always assumed he had the hots for Nova.

"Who?" asks Nova as Termo passes me the letter.

Termo just shrugs and sprints back down the hill.

I open the envelope and pull out the slip of paper. It reads:

 _Dear Eliza,_

 _You have made the biggest mistake of your life. Bitch._

 _Watch your back,_

 _\- K.U._

I take a step back and relinquish the letter, letting it drift down to the earth. Nova doesn't normally go all nosy and stick herself into my business but she must have noted the fear on my face so she leans down and picks up the letter. Besides, she knows I've been receiving threats from… Him.

"Wow," she whispers as she scrunches it up into a ball. I can see her fists clenching and unclenching in anger and frustration.

Who's the letter from? Kaine Underwood, scum of the earth.

I feel like crying…

* * *

 _ **Kaine Underwood – District 5 Male**_

 _ **Age: 18**_

 _ **"Well, hello there, gorgeous."**_

* * *

The perfect boy stands in the moonlight, it casts shadows behind him, painting a silhouette on the cold concrete.

In his hand he holds a cigarette, lit, and smoking, it's putrid smell wafts from the balcony and off across the District.

Standing on the balcony of his father's three-story mansion, the perfect boy surveys the District, he watches the lights flicker slowly off. It starts at seven o'clock in the slums where people worry about wasting power and ends at midnight in the heights of District 5. This pattern, he notices.

The perfect boy brings his cigarette to his mouth and takes a long drag. He savors it in his mouth before he lets it escape, breathing out the deadly smoke. He has been told so many times that smoking is bad, that smoking kills but so do so many other things. Even he has the capability to kill.

Kaine Underwood holds his hand out over the balcony, holding his smoke between his thumb and forefinger. He rolls it back and forth before loosening his grip and watching it glide down towards the ground. When it lands in the grass, two-storeys below, it flickers – a bright orange glow – before dying out completely, leaving only the butt.

He turns on his heels and heads towards the massive arched doorway, as he opens it a burst of cold air rushes into his bedroom sending his fireplace into a more intense rhythm. It's deep orange flames flicker against the burnt glass casting an eerie glow across the floor nearby. His steel-capped boots echo a repetitive beat as he strides through the room.

At the end of his bed, he sits down. He lies back against his bedding, feeling his messy blonde hair slide across the smooth velvety sheet. District 8, that's where it came from – what scum, living off of barely anything, they should learn to work harder like Kaine, the perfect boy.

He slides his clothing off and, throwing his bedding aside, he jumps into bed. His boots lie in a pile, a few feet away from his massive king-size bed. As Kaine lays there, he thinks of the past, of the present and the future. He fumbles around with his hands, unclasping his gold wristwatch. As he lays it carefully on his bedside table his left hand becomes completely visible. It's a mess, a few scabs here and there and lots of dry crusty blood… That isn't his. Early in the morning - after the perfect boy had posted his letter to Eliza – he had had a run-in with Mya Hart, the bitch of the District. She'd called him a bad word and he'd taught her a lesson. She had been disrespectful and out of many things the perfect boy deserves, respect is the thing he deserves the most.

Kaine Underwood's face lights up in a devilish grin.

He calls for his mother. He's comfortable, with fire roaring at the other side of the room and his body snug and warm in his bedding, there is no way he is going to get up. She comes in, her face worn with signs of age and a sad and tired look chiseled into her once gorgeous face. Twenty odd years of being treated like a slave does this to people. Her husband is a stern and unforgiving man, ordering her around, treating her like a slave. The perfect boy is no better. Once – a long time ago – she had loved Jim Underwood but times change and the feelings – if they ever existed – have long since perished.

Kaine clicks in her direction and points at the light switch. "Light," he says. She flicks the switch and the room is pushed into the pure jet-black darkness of night for a second, never to last, light still comes from the raging fireplace, roaring silently ablaze in the far corner of the room.

This perfect boy is far from perfect. Perception is everything, though, so if everyone believes you are then you might as well be. Kaine Underwood has the good looks, the manners, enough money to keep him alive, he seems loyal and kind: the type of boy girls would die for. But that is only the surface. Underneath: The real truth hides.

The not-so-perfect boy dreams of the girl. His arm is outstretched, stroking hers as she smiles. She was such a needy person, always wanting attention, the attention she never found in her parents. He had fixed her up, gave her what she wanted, made her had made her happy. All was well, at least until she had decided to not pay up when it was her turn. Everything has a price – out of the many things Kaine learned from his father, this was the one that had embedded itself the deepest into his thick skull.

So when Eliza started to become a cheerful person, Kaine asked for payment. Of course, Eliza couldn't give him any money – she didn't have it plus Kaine didn't need it – so he asked for another method of payment: service.

She abided by his rules and their relationship had started to become a more appropriate one, with the man in charge, the lady doing what she was told. It would have lasted if it wasn't for Nova, the dumb bitch. She was a terrible influence on the girl and soon after they had met, Eliza left. Apparently, Kaine had been 'abusing' her but what nonsense it was, he had been supporting her, after all.

And so she was:

Eliza Lirae, scum of the earth.

* * *

 _ **Eliza Lirae – District 5 Female**_

 _ **Age: 17**_

 _ **"Who, me?"**_

* * *

"Do you like my dress?" I ask mom

"Of course darling," she replies absentmindedly as she fiddles with Poppy's hair. I notice she didn't even bother to look up, how could she know liked it.

"Give up," whispers Sandra in my ear, forcefully, as she walks past, baby held between her arms, "It doesn't get any better."

Well, for her it didn't, but she's her. Determination has never been my sister's strong suit.

I crouch down in front of Poppy and look mom in the eyes. "Mom," I say, "What do you think of my dress?"

"Darling, can't you see I'm busy? Poppy's hair isn't going to brush itself," she says, refusing to take her eyes off the knot that she's combing. When she notices I haven't left, she briefly looks up and flashes me a smile, "Eliza Lirae. Your dress is fine."

I stand up with a smile and twirl across the room.

"Needy," says Greg as he shoves past. He's five years younger than me and treats me like trash. I'm not sure but I think he has anger-management issues, he's always irate and never shares why he bullies his younger siblings and such. It's okay, though, we each have our own way of dealing with our parent's lack of attention.

"Yeah, Eliza. Why are you such an attention-seeker?" That's Pete, more or less Greg's thug – he's eleven. Every time Nova comes over she says I should give them a piece of my mind or something, a whack over the ear – something that always tempts her – or play some kind of practical joke on him. I know I shouldn't let them push me around like they do, since they're like, half a decade younger than me, but they're honestly too cute for me to want to be mean to them. Ursula the next one and she's even cuter, she tries to be all tough like her brothers but she never manages to pull it off. Her 'crossed arm' look is so adorable I can't help but laugh.

Lirita and May-Belle are the ones between Greg and I and they're both very sweet. Lirita is fifteen and probably the sibling I'm closest to. She's not as 'needy' as me (If you ask Greg) but she also enjoys school and is very observant. When we manage to escape the house together we sometimes head out into the desert and watch the clouds float by, much to the jealousy of thirteen-year-old May-Belle.

Col is a year older than me but I hardly ever see him. He hooked up with some girl about a year ago and ended up moving in with her parents. The dad owns some kind of firm that makes tools for the electricians and somehow Col scored a job. He probably promised to wed his daughter. He's the only one of my siblings who's had some kind of success in their life.

Sandra is a year older than Cole – two older than me – and what you'd call a bitch. If she wasn't such an outcast (Being poor and all) ten bucks says she'd be friends with Mya and her group. She slept with some guy she met at a pub and became pregnant (Contraception hasn't quite hit in the slums). The guy ditched her like, straight away, as soon as he heard the word baby. There's no such thing as child funds for people like us, so she's a burden to mom and dad's income. I've heard them talking – they can't wait for her to leave.

There's also Poppy and Day, the two youngest of my siblings. At least, out of the ones that are still alive… Poppy's a doll and definitely mom's favorite. She's actually got looks if you'd hear mom say it. I guess that means the rest of us don't have the looks? Day is only five and he spends all his time with mom. He's okay, I guess, better than Poppy who cried every single night until she was six.

Amelia Lirae is a shell of the person she used to be, decades of giving birth to children and suffering the trauma of miscarriages have taken their toll on her figure. Her wispy, frail figure. She struggles alongside her husband, the man she loves, to make sure they bring their children up to be good citizens. Either that or she wants a hundred grandchildren.

We all receive tesserae - I've got forty extra tickets in this year – to make sure we survive the winter in our shitty excuse for a house. I don't think mom's making Greg take any this year but I'm sure he'll take an extra few when he's thirteen.

I pick up one of the chinked glasses that we own and fill it with the murky bore water. To others, they'd complain about it tasting like rotten eggs but I've grown up on this stuff, the odd taste isn't really… odd.

"Eli!" That'd be Nova, no one else calls me Eli, thankfully. It's kind of a tradition, I guess, us always walking to the reaping together. Especially after what happened with Kaine.

Originally, it had been slow. He was a hot and popular boy a year older than me and I thrived on any morsel attention I was given. I was fourteen when it started for real. He gave my family extra food and told me I was amazing, that he loved me. It wasn't long before I became reliant on his attention. Things were getting worse at home, mom and dad stopped caring, Kaine became my closest friend. And then one day he started acting strangely. He asked me to do things for him like 'fetch him water,' trivial things. He told me that he was a man and she be treated like one, told me that I should do whatever he told me. I wasn't allowed to argue and he began to cut ties with my friends. That was when Nova became suspicious and ended up saving me from Kaine… and myself.

"Let's go!" she calls grabbing my hand and pulling me out the door through my massive family. "See you later Mrs. Lirae!"

* * *

 _ **Emanuel Selwood – Presidential Candidate, District 5 Mentor**_

 _ **Age: 44**_

 _ **"My life was a shit heap, Drugs, Alcohol, Domestic Violence. And then I got the good news."**_

* * *

"Excuse me, could you please fetch me a scotch – on the rocks," I politely ask the Avox that is serving us.

She smiles back at me, showing teeth. I catch a glimpse of the mouth behind them, a deep shade of red, chunks of flesh torn out and stringy bits of gum rolling around. The way these people are treated… It's inhumane.

"No need to be polite, Emanuel. Treat them like the criminals they are," says Crucis, "I imagine this Avox committed one particularly grievous, treason perhaps? Or some form of murder." Crucis Nairn, the pain in my ass. This man – no, boy. He's not even thirty – is continuously forgetting who's boss. It gets on my nerves, his constant nagging, ordering. I've considered stopping paying him, getting him off my case but he is my perfect guide to the Capitol and its citizens. Sadly, I need him.

That doesn't mean I have to play nicely.

I turn to the Avox that is silently carrying out my order. It's strange really, the odd silence of avoxes, the way they never make a sound, not even a groan. "Avox, what crime do you reckon this one committed?" I ask, pointing at Crucis. "It must have been something particularly bad, poisoning perhaps?"

The Avox makes a cackling sound and casts another teeth-showing smile in my direction. Ick, I feel like I'm about to retch. It's a deep guttural sound, a bit like a monster… or the buzz of the power lines in District five.

I turn to Crucis, to point out that he shouldn't judge people upon first glance, kind of something my mom would have said but he looks shocked. It was a joke, of course, Crucis wouldn't poison someone, he isn't imaginative enough to concoct something that complicated… but his face says otherwise, he looks shocked.

When he sees me looking at him his desperate look wavers for a second before he cracks a smile as well. "Good one, Emanuel. I always thought of you as a funny guy."

What? That joke wasn't funny at all, least, not in my opinion…

Crucis stands up, pushing his chair back from the table and standing up. "May I excuse myself," he asks Savannah, our new mentor. She's been sitting silently in the corner smiling to herself and reading the newspaper the whole time.

She smiles at him. "Of course darling."

Crucis nods in my direction, kind of like a man's thankyou and heads off down the carriage, exiting the dining room from the back entrance.

I take my leave as well, taking my drink from the Avox – Scotch on the rocks, simply sublime – as I leave.

I stride over to the window, sipping my drink as I go. I roll the liquid over in my mouth, savoring its flavor. Since I left District five last time around I vowed to stay away from the drink, well, at least, t stay away from drunkenness. So far, I've succeeded but as I get closer and closer to home I've been starting to feel my façade collapse. I've lived in District five almost all of my life, it's home to me but there are bad parts of it as well. The slums, for example, the place where I grew up. Oh, and the Victor's Village…

Georgia Selwood, how much I would like to get rid of her I cannot disclose.

I stand by the window, watching the landscape fly by. I'm on one of those electromagnetic trains, the one's that can move at up to about six hundred kilometers per hour. The scenery flies past, a vast open desert, dotted here and there with minuscule shrubs, the only sign of green for miles around. Out on the horizon I can see a silhouette of District five: The slums, where the poorer part of the population lives; the power plants, a massive industrial complex housing hundreds of corporations as well as Capitol owned organizations (The most successful ones); The heights of District five are there as well. High above everything else built atop the massive Vanderdill hill. It's the only lump or bump in the massive desert, so all the people that owned some sort of money built their houses there.

I can also see the Victor's Village. I can barely make out its shape and I only can because of the rising sun – shining directly upon it, lighting it up in an insane scarlet glow.

As of now, I don't think anyone has discovered my true agenda. My impeccable plan – flawless – no one will ever expect what I'm going to do when I take control of Panem. Of course, it's not exactly a betrayal, I'm serving the greater good, the Hunger Games are dangerous to the society of Panem and as I claimed at the start of my campaign: I would 'Make Panem great again!"

And I'm not going to renege on my word.

The only person besides me that actually has a chance at doing well in the election is Dawn Angelica, the previous head gamemaker. Her and Atlas Edenthaw, the mysterious 'brother of the Capitol' who has somehow been doing well in the polls.

Not as well as me, though, thanks to Crucis… Thanks to Crucis I'm at the top of the polls every. Single. Time. I mean, the new President won't be announced until after the end of this year's Hunger Games but I've pretty much got this thing in a bag.

Which is why I'm here, really. If I can bring home a victor this year, I've more or less got this election in the bag. And I swear, and when I say this I mean it:

The 103rd Annual Hunger Games will be the last one ever!

* * *

 _ **Savannah Utopia – District 5 Escort**_

 _ **Age: 62**_

* * *

"Really?" says Emanuel, passing me a glass of water, "I never picked you as that kind of person."

"Oh, yes, I definitely am," I reply, "I starred in many re-incarnations, I did. Once, when I was younger, I got to play Destiny Samara – from your games."

"I remember her well, feisty, very feisty. Was she a joy to act?"

"Yes! She was definitely one of my favorite tributes to act out, though Betty Aurium of the 78th was by far my favorite. Such a character she was, a shame really that Tule finished her off but I guess he made quite a victor, despite his leg injuries."

"He did. I shared a drink with him a couple weeks ago, he's all for my Campaign," says Emanuel, a sly smile on his face. Ever since Crucis left the room he's been acting a bit odd… One of my grandchildren was like this once, turned out he'd been invited to some girls twelfth birthday. Such a sweetheart. "Could you pass the butter?"

"Of course Darling." I haven't spent much time with my grandchildren lately, which is a shame. I miss the little mischief-makers, my jobs been getting in the way a bit, recently. All this District changing and getting used to the new routine. The kids that I escort make up for it though, most of them are just as sweet as any of my grandchildren's friends.

The victors make for great company as well. Emanuel isn't really my type, neither is Trumann – Though he as a great sense of humor – they both turned to the drink soon after their victory. Trumann is understandable, though… The stuff he went through in the arena makes me grimace. Trixie is a doll, though. Always has a smile on her face.

None of those victors are mine, though. Like I said, this is my first year in District 5, though I've mentored for decades in District 9. Thankfully, I've brought one victor home – Priscilla Durum and what a victor she was, the way she toyed with the tributes minds, was a joy to watch.

I was moved to District five after the events of the 101st and the 102nd Annual Hunger Games. Three escorts were shot during the reapings by some anonymous sniper that was never found. The two previous escorts for District five were assassinated on live television. The Capitol tried desperately to organize a new escort but things never go just as they were planned, the world isn't that kind.

So I volunteered, no one else was going to and it would be unfair if the tributes from five didn't have an escort. Besides, it's more or less a promotion there are more victors from five than nine and I get a pay rise _plus_ if I do well I might get promoted to an even better District.

In consequence of the stupid rebels, the Capitol has turned the District's Justice Building Square into a fortified venue, with bulletproof glass in front of the stage and extra guards and laws in place to make sure no on shady gets into the square. Overkill, I say, no one is going to assassinate me.

Emanuel stands up, brushing himself down. "We best be off then, the District is going to wait forever."

* * *

I stand on the stage behind the bulletproof glass, gazing lovingly at the children before me.

For sure, I pity whoever is reaped, but it's quite an honor to compete in the Hunger Games, especially with a kind mentor, like me. I'll assure they live out their last days enjoyably. Who knows? Maybe they won't be their last.

Emanuel, Trumann, and Beatrix sit in chairs behind me, with the mayor. I introduce them quickly before continuing with the formalities. I notice a squad of peacekeepers crossing the square in a hurry.

The girl reaped was seventeen but didn't look a second over thirteen. What a lucky girl, age is something you learn to treasure when you're as old as I. Appearance is, however, an advantage when the games come around – sponsors are more likely to trust their money on an older woman than one that looked like they hadn't hit puberty yet.

A rude boy sniggers and when I read the next name, I can't help but feel the karma in this situation as he takes the stage.

* * *

 _ **Kaine Underwood – District 5 Male**_

 _ **Age: 18**_

 _ **"Well, hello there, gorgeous."**_

* * *

"Kaine, over here," calls a boy dressed to the nines who stands a few feet away. Kaine isn't sure but he thinks his name is Damian. It doesn't matter, everyone calls him Termo anyway.

The not-so-perfect boy saunters over to Termo and the gang. They talk about chicks for a bit (Who's in this year's hottest ten babes) while they wait for District 5's new number one bimbo to take the stage. The last two were sniped as they waited. Idiots.

One of the boys suggests putting Mya Hart on the list – the dumb bitch who thinks she's queen of the world – and it takes Kaine's persuasion to change their minds. The not-so-perfect boy's always had a talent for persuasion, whatever he says people always believe, it's always right of course – Kaine knows everything. He's always been the type of person who seems right, even if what he says is completely illogical. And besides, it wasn't exactly a hard case to argue, everyone knew Mya was a dumb bitch who didn't deserve anyone's time of day. She thinks she perfect amazing and Kaine knows that's laughable. What a bitch.

Kaine can't stand people who think they're amazing. In this world there's only room for people that really are amazing – take Kaine for example.

Termo points up at the stage, interrupting their in-depth conversation, with a goofy grin plastered onto his face.

The not-so-perfect boy doesn't know much about Termo, they've been friends for a long time but they're not the kind of people that get all mushy and talk about the 'real' problems, the ones no one gives a flying fuck about. Kaine doesn't know how he got his nickname and if he did, it'd probably go straight over his head, he's never been one for understanding double meanings. Termo is the shortened phrase for thermonuclear a long term, a pain to speak out as the multiple syllables usually get muddled up. Word is that Damian has a personality like nuclear – uncontrollable – which won him his name. But like I said this isn't the kind of thing Kaine cares about. Not at all.

Annoyance evident on their faces (They had been enjoying the conversation at hand), the boys looked up at the stage. Some dumb Capitol bitch stood there, with hair died a fiery red. She looked about thirty but to everyone,it was obvious that she was definitely older than fifty – at least. She was fat and that was the kind way to put it, with fairly wrinkled skin. She was dressed in a red dress and a golden necklace hung from her neck, District 5's cog-like symbol adorned the chainwork.

As the idle chit-chat ceased and everyone began to pay attention to the slag on the stage, the not-so-perfect boy glanced over to the girl section. Now, Kaine had always been interested in the opposite gender, most boys his age were and when the reapings came around Kaine treated it as a perfect opportunity to check girl's out. He loved it when they were tense. But that wasn't the reason his eyes had wandered over there, no, he was looking for the girl.

He spotted Nova first, the dumb Indian bitch who'd stolen Kaine's payment. She was easy to find, with skin like that, you could spot her a mile away. She wasn't far away, her brown curly hair swaying in the breeze. As soon as Kaine located her, her eyes flickered towards him as if she could sense his presence from the opposite end of the square. He tried to hold eye-contact, show her who was boss - like his father had always told him to do - but she had always been a tough bitch to crack, her eyes flickered away just as fast. He was pleased, though, when he saw a look of fear cross her face. Maybe it was the fact he hadn't eaten any breakfast (He simply couldn't be bothered, and his mom hadn't come when he'd called) that made his tummy rumble but Kaine was sure it had been the loom that crossed that girls face. The one that showed he'd achieved power.

He relished when her name was called and everyone in the square heard him snigger as the bitch took the stage. He copped a few glares from other citizens and he swore he could feel Nova's eyes burning into him. The worst of the lot was the escort. Her stink-eye was the scariest Kaine had ever seen.

Now it was time for the boy's name.

"Kaine Underwood," said the retarded bitch that had just sentenced Kaine Underwood – _The_ Kaine Underwood, mind you – to his imminent doom.

The not-so-perfect boy waited for a second and then another. Waiting for the volunteer to announce themselves. As soon as it became evident that was not to be, Kaine shrugged, pulled a chick-winning smile and sauntered up to the stage. His perfect teeth almost distracted people from the voice in the crowd that called "Karma, bitch!"

He wasn't sure but he swore that he saw the faintest hint of a smile light up Eliza Lirae's face.

* * *

 **So, what are your thoughts on these two tributes?**

 **Who do you prefer? Eliza or Kaine?**

 **Who's your favorite tribbie so far?**

 **You know those little chart thingies? They help a lot with letting me know who you like and in what order, :D**

 **There are so many American spellings in this that irritate me, I know this an American website but I'm Australian and it's a little frustrating when it autocorrects mum to mom, or favourite to favorite, or (This one is bad) learnt to learned... XD But I gave up, what will be, will be.**

 **You may have noticed how Emanuel has changed. Though still keeping some of his morals, the once humble and wilful victor has become a vain and slightly selfish Capitolite. He has more or less became one with the sheep-like people of the Capitol, being herded about. Don't hate him just yet, he might change and don't worry, it's all part of a greater cause: The plot of the story ;)**

 **If you havent submitted to sootyy's 'Memories - The 25th Annual Hunger Games' yet you should definitely do that. He's a great writer and his rendition of the infamous first quarter quell is sure to be GREAT!**

 **So... The Sponsorship Program has been officially canceled. I apologize to anyone who really wanted it to be part of this story. The vote was 3 against 2 plus 3 people voted for my decision - which was that it would have a negative impact on the story. So, essentially, it was 6 against 2.**

 **Please Review, they keep me motivated!**

 **Until Next Time! :D**


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